


Love, My Truest Self

by bravebatgirl



Category: Love Victor (TV 2020), Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Gay Panic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Teen Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Venji is the ship of FLUFF, i love my gay sons, i spiritually identify as a Victor Lovebot, just... gay panic everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24817444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravebatgirl/pseuds/bravebatgirl
Summary: Victor Salazar proudly identifies as a family fixer, a people pleaser. Now, as recently discovered, he also identifies as very much gay.He got to kiss the boy he's been pining after for months, and learned that by some divine intervention that Benji feels the same way about him. It should be the happiest he's ever felt, but of course, the best things in life aren't free.He's broken Mia's heart, his parents are splitting up, and he has no idea how things are going to change after his coming out. All he knows is that from here on out, he has got to unabashedly be himself. Why is that so hard?-continuation from ep. 10-
Relationships: Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier, Felix Weston/Lake Meriwether, Mia Brooks/Andrew Spencer, Victor Salazar/Benji Campbell
Comments: 227
Kudos: 634





	1. My Feels Locked Inside

**Author's Note:**

> i stayed up till 6am the other night bingeing this entire show and i love victor salazar with my entire being.  
> i need more venji goodness.  
> so, this came into fruition. enjoy, gays.
> 
> also, made a little playlist for the best boys (aka Venji) if y'all wanna check it out [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0PF2sPuM50nzOzzvJj4qez?si=Gf0N3k0lT9Ov7nYHJsHV5A)

“M-Mom, Dad… I’m gay.”

The words leave in a stilted breath, tentative from the insurmountable weight they carry, but once they’re out, it’s like the whole world just sighed in relief. Victor swallows thick, chest heaving as the smallest hint of a smile blossoms on his face. Against all odds, against the pressure of everything crumbling around him, he has said the words. He is gay. He likes boys (well, _one_ boy in particular, but… baby steps). He has come out to his family, finally taking something for himself for once, and no matter what happens, no matter how they react, he can honestly say he’s proud. Proud of who he is, and proud that he _is_ proud.

That being said, the silence that follows his declaration is unequivocally unnerving, and he prays to God that someone says something in the next two seconds. If not, he’s either going to sprint out of the room in a very on-brand fashion or spontaneously combust.

Pilar is blinking at him with some sort of dawning recognition. His mother silently gasps, reaching a hand to her mouth as her lashes flutter. His father has reeled back in… shock? He thinks? His brows are furrowing as his eyes scan his son, as if he’s suddenly going to start exuding rainbows from underneath his tux.

Sweat starts beading on his forehead, and Victor begins mentally psyching himself up.

He knows his parents love him, and as far as religious beliefs and progressiveness go, are closer to the middle of the scale, but he’s still terrified. Of _course_ he’s terrified – this is a big-ass deal. For all they’ve known, their sweet, perfect, stable _niño_ was the picture-perfect son in their crazy family, the polished one out of their rust and tarnish. He was the star basketball player, the diligent and the independent student, the boyfriend to the most amazing girl in school. The pristine vision of young hetero success.

Well… at least he somewhat ticks a couple of those boxes.

He swallows his anxiety as the silence draws out, and he fights to not wring his hands or look down or turn tail and move to New York. He’s not going to run away. Not this time.

After some of the most painful seconds of his life, his mom clears her throat, flickering her eyes between her lap and her husband. Her lips purse, and she meets Victor’s eyes with a clouded expression. “Um… how about we talk this in the morning, _mi amor?_ ”

As much as he knows he’ll probably sleep better if they just lay it all out on the table now, Victor’s skin is prickling in nerves and he nods his head, small and sharp as he bites his lip. “Yep… yep, that’s… sounds good…” He flounders for another moment before offering the most pathetic excuse of a smile he can. “Goodnight.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he turns on his heel and walks as fast as socially acceptable toward his room. He rips the bowtie off, feeling his heart race within his chest, and reaches up to run a hand through his gelled hair. He gets to the door of his room, yanking it open and throwing his back against it after closing it once more. His breathing is rapid, gasping for air as his head falls back against the door, and he stares up at the ceiling.

Holy shit.

Holy _fucking_ shit.

Slowly, his body drags down the door until he meets the floor with a gentle thud.

That just happened.

He just came out.

After years of questioning, after years of uncertainty, after years of hiding in fear of himself, he’s emerged from the shadows and stepped into his reality. He rubs a hand along his jaw, eyes staring off into the void as he tries to begin processing the labyrinthine events of tonight.

What he had tried desperately to make a good night for Mia in amongst all the crap within her life had shattered. They had arrived as sweethearts, slow dancing to the gentle stereo behind them, and Victor had tried so hard to make it about her, he really had. She deserved a night of smooth-sailing and blissful joy. He would tell her the truth once she’d had her Cinderella ball. That had been the plan, anyway… but God seemed to have a certain proclivity for making shit complex. Lo and behold, she left, crying and furious, on the arm of Andrew, and Victor came home with a mistrusting sister. Every time he thinks he’s doing something to help his loved ones, he just ends up causing them more pain. After what Mia supposedly walked on, he wouldn’t be surprised if she completely shuns him from now on.

Which brings him to…

Benji confessed his feelings. Benji _reciprocated_ his feelings.

Victor… kissed Benji.

Well, actually, it was less of _him_ kissing Benji and more just… them both kissing each other at the same time. His heart clenches at the thought of his lips on his, desperate and warm and certain beyond measure; the way that he’d dreamed and fantasised about it since he’d first laid eyes on the brunet barista, and how none of them could have compared to the reality. Heat rises on his cheeks and spreads to the tips of his ears, and he buries his face in his hands, groaning softly.

The whole fiasco with Mia had happened, followed by Pilar’s accusatory stare, and the atomic bomb that was his parents’ decision to separate. Normally, Victor would bite his tongue, smile through his own misgivings, and see to bringing about peace within those around him.

 _Blessed are the peacemakers_ … A light snort of disdain puffs from his nose. “Are blessed people supposed to live with this much stress?”

Tonight, the culmination of everything dog-piling on each other, and possibly the emboldening of Benji’s kiss, Victor had said ‘enough is enough. I got my shit, too, y'all’.

Getting that off his chest, as liberating as it was, had been absolutely terrifying. It was as though he had breathed a sigh of relief only to realise the air around him was chilling and thin.

Pressure builds behind his eyes and he sucks in a halting breath, shaking his head. Simon… messaging Simon will help. He’ll know what to say. He always does.

Whipping his phone from his pocket, Victor goes into Instagram and begins constructing the message.

**_ victor.salazar04 _ **

_Hey Simon, thanks for your message. I only wish I’d seen it BEFORE everything went crazy…_

_So… tonight was filled with some pretty mixed emotions. On one hand, I kissed Benji again, except this time… he kissed me back. We both told each other how we feel, and it’s incredible. He’s amazing. I think you’d really like him. I should add that he broke up with his boyfriend before this happened. I, however… oh boy_

_Mia saw us. And you were right— As much as I wanted to try to protect her feelings, I just ended up hurting her more. She’s really mad at me, and I don’t know if she’ll forgive me, but I’m going to give her a call in the morning and ask to meet up and explain everything to her. She deserves the truth._

_If all that wasn’t crazy enough, I came home with a very angry sister who knows I cheated on Mia, but thinks it was with a girl. We go through the door and our parents are there waiting to tell us that they’re going to separate. For how long? we don’t know. That’s a whole other thing._

_Anyway, it was just… too much all at once and I kinda said screw it and well… came out to them. Said the two magic words for the first time – I’m gay. As expected, they all looked pretty shocked. My mom said we would ‘talk about it in the morning.’ I’m not too sure what to make of that._

Victor sighs, reaching a hand to rub against his temple as a lump lodges itself at the back of his throat.

_I don’t really know how I should be feeling right now. I’m happy about Benji, sad about Mia, petrified about my family and… it’s just a lot. I don’t… even know how to start processing all this, I know I’m not getting any sleep tonight even though I’m exhausted. Sorry, this is lot for 11 at night, and even if you don’t know what to say, know that it helps just… getting it out. Say hi to Bram and the others for me. Missing you all in New York_ _😊_

A shuddering breath escapes his lips, and Victor attempts the futility of swallowing back the emotion. His chest heaves in the rapid breaths that sting in his lungs, as though frostbite is manifesting within his being. Shakily tossing his phone onto the bed, he gets to his feet and begins to pace, hands clutching and fingers tugging at his thick hair. So many thoughts are rampaging through his head that he can’t draw focus on any particular one, and all he wants to do is bang it against a wall in the hopes it will shake some loose for him to organise. The world feels dizzy, and while he’s never been drunk before, he imagines this is how dizzying it must be.

He kissed Benji. Benji likes him. Benji wants him. He’s out of the closet. Felix knows. Mia knows. Andrew knows. Felix accepts him. Mia hates him. Andrew is going to tell everyone. Felix is going to be caught in this drama. His parents know. He doesn’t know if he parents still love him the same. They don’t love each other the same. They’re separating. They were just settling after Texas, and now they’re jumping ship again. Wait. Are they going to move again? Is Victor going to have to repeat this same process all over again? Is he going to lose everyone he has here?

He is wheezing now, tears blurring his vision as he struggles for breath. He doesn’t even feel like he’s in his own body anymore, but rather watching himself melt down from an elevated angle. Is this a panic attack?

Pain thrums through his chest, and he clutches at it, rounding his back in on himself. Shit… holy shit, he feels like he’s having a heart attack.

Somehow, he moves toward his bed and crawls atop it, sitting with his legs crossed as he pulls a pillow into his arms and crushes it against him. The fear pulsates around him like a gong, reverberating through his bones, and the struggle to stay tethered to reality only becomes harder.

Through the thundering of his own heart, he hears the muffled tone of his phone ringing. Wide eyes that are blurry with unshed tears try to focus on it, and he narrows his entire being onto it, concentrating with everything he has. As he registers the contact name, he shudders a gasp, stifling the tears as best he can before picking it up, gripping it in his trembling hand as he chokes out, ‘H-hello?”

“Victor, hey”, comes the angelic and vibrant sigh in reply, and Victor’s heart lulls into something closer to ease. “I uh… I know you said you’d call tomorrow, but I couldn’t—didn’t wanna wait. Didn’t want tonight to end.”

Victor smiles softly, heart watery as he silently shares in the sentiment.

“Plus, it’s really boring at home right now without you to talk to.” There’s a light snort that echoes in his ear, and Benji follows with a chuckled, “Even Netflix isn’t appealing at the moment. And Netflix has Queer Eye.”

Despite his constricted chest, Victor manages a small laugh. “Isn’t… isn’t liking Queer Eye a bit, uh… on the nose?”

He can practically see Benji rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on, this is like, one of the very few stereotypes I conform to. Gimme a break.”

“Heh, sorry”, he swallows thickly.

“No, no, it’s all good. Don’t worry about it.”, he replies with an audible smile. The mental image is more soothing than a cup of his mom’s hot chocolate.

As if on some astral cue, there’s a soft knock on the door. Victor sucks in a staccato breath, leaning into the phone to breech through the wall of distance to where Benji’s warmth is. In the softest whisper, he shakily says, “H-hey, can you wait two seconds?”

“Yeah, of course.” Victor bites his lip at the concern woven into his voice.

He presses his phone into the cushioning of his doona, clearing his throat before too-quietly saying, “Come in.”

With a click the knob turns, and the door creakily edges open. His mother’s half-smile appears around the door, not quite meeting her nor his eyes.

Victor swallows the godforsaken lump back down into his gut, quivering smile on his lips. “H-hey Mom.”

“Hey, Victor…” she says tentatively, eyes roaming over his bedroom, before settling on the phone placed accordingly next to his thigh. “Were you just talking to someone?”

_‘Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit.’_

“Um”, he croaks out, fingers running over the phone-case seeking some distant comfort, “Y-yeah, uh… just a… just a friend. School friend.” The omissive lie feels like tar in his mouth, but he can’t deal with this tonight. He’s already unravelling at the seams – telling his mother that not only is he gay, but in a requited… _something_ with a boy all in the same, tumultuous night would be too much on her and on him. He wants to but… he just can’t.

Her eyes dart to the side as she slowly nods, lips pursed as her brows knit. “Okay… well, I just wanted to make sure you are okay, and that you’re getting ready for bed. It’s been a long night.”

He smiles for her, nodding jarringly. “Yeah, I was just going to get changed into my pyjamas.”

“Good… good…” She’s still not meeting his eye. Victor’s jaw works and his teeth grind. “Get some sleep, okay? And we’ll finish the talk about uh… what you said downstairs in the morning, yeah?”

“Yes, _mamí”,_ Victor whispers out through the persistent lump. “You sleep well, too.”

“Thank you.” God above… it’s so tense and stilted and horrible and Victor wants to scream and cry and hit a wall. She offers a weird tight-lipped smile as she starts to close the door. “ _Buenas noches.”_

“Goodnight.”

And just like that, she’s gone again, and Victor can feel the walls vibrate around him. His teeth are chattering, and his hands are clenching at the blanket beneath him. He’s panting sporadically, and it’s definitely not normal, but he can feel himself giving into the overwhelming fear crashing down around him.

From the forgotten phone beneath his hand comes the quiet shout of, “ _Victor_!”, and he jolts at the noise.

Trembling hands struggle to keep it in his grasp as he pulls it toward his ear once more, and after a beat of him trying to wrangle his own lunges, he whispers out, “Sorry, I-I’m sorry. I’m here now.”

“Hey, now, don’t apologise”, coos Benji in the softest voice imaginable; a vast change from the obvious yell he’d just been using. “I was just worried. I could hear you breathing really heavily, and it sounded like you were going through something… Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m fine.” The answer comes automatically.

“Victor…” Benji somehow says both sternly and comfortingly, “You do not sound fine. What’s going on? You can talk to me, you know.”

_‘I know. You’re probably the only person I can really talk to about this.’_

Victor smiles again through the blur, shaking his head lightly. “You don’t wanna hear about this. You’ve already had to deal with enough drama tonight.”

“Maybe, but it kind of got cancelled out after talking to you. Now _and_ before. So,” there’s shifting on the end of the line, followed by a cushioned thud, “my drama quota is 100% free, totally open to you and you alone. You can fill it up as much as you want.”

Victor lowers the phone from his ear, glancing across at his wall in pensiveness. It’s coated floor to ceiling in posters, from Deadpool to Khalid, but he cannot hope to focus on any of them right now. All he can see is the framed portrait of himself drawn by Benji. He clutches onto the feeling that blooms in his chest and doesn’t let go as he brings the phone back to his ear. As he lowers himself onto the bed, he stares up at the brown ceiling above him, sucks in a deep breath and says, “I came out to my family just before.”

“Holy shit…” Benji breathes, and there’s more shifting as the phone is brought closer to his lips. “Victor, I… woah, that’s big. How—how’d it go? Are you okay?”

The pressure in his eyes becomes blinding as Victor sighs through his ajar mouth, and it comes out a hiss. “I… I don’t—maybe? I don’t know, tonight’s been a lot and I think it’s all catching up to me now a-and I’m kinda freaking out. Mia found out too ‘cause she saw us kiss, and now she hates me and I _know_ she does, and Andrew knows and he said he won’t say anything but I don’t know, and Pilar – I don’t even know what she thinks of me now – but Mom and Dad are separating and I-I _can’t_ do this again, I can’t—”

“Victor, I need you to breathe’, Benji commands into his ear, clear and pure as it cuts through the incessant buzzing in his skull. “Breathe with me, alright? Slow and steady, we’re going to breathe in for five, and then hold it till I count the breath out, okay? You’re okay.”

“I-I—”

“Focus on my voice, Victor. Drown out everything else. It’s just you and me, okay? You can do this. It’s just breathing. You’ve got this.”

“O… Okay.”

“Okay, ready? We’re going to breathe in, one, two, three…”

They go through the exercise for a solid three minutes before Victor feels the walls stabilise along with his heartbeat, and the crushing pressure on his lungs lifts. He feels the weight of his body come back to him and rubs at the remnants of aching pain on his sternum. A genuine smile lights his face up, and he closes his eyes in peaceful serenity as he whispers into the phone. “Thank you, Benji… _argh_ , that was so embarrassing”, he chuckles softly.

There’s an exhalation that sounds like a gentle snort. “Nothing embarrassing about it. I’m just sorry you’re going through this. H-how… do you normally have panic attacks like that?”

“Uh…” Victor lifts a hand and draws it back through his hair, “no, not really. I kinda just… push stuff down and hope it stays there as long as it can.”

“That’s… not healthy, Victor.”

“Yeah, I know”, he says in a light, derisive chuckle. “But, if it keeps everyone else sane, it’s worth it.”

Benji releases a long-suffering sigh, and Victor bites his lip in a brewing smile. “Dude… you are too selfless for your own good. Don’t get me wrong, it’s adorable and hella attractive—” a blush bursts on Victor’s face, “—but you won’t be of any good to anyone else if your own mental state is cracking.”

It’s Victor’s turn to release a sigh, and he lets his hand flop back down onto the bed as his mouth twists. “Yeah… yeah, I mean, you’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m older, and hence wiser than you.”

A proper snort escapes Victor and he rolls onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. “I don’t think it inherently works like that.”

“Oh, it definitely does, so you better respect your elders – i.e. me.”

“Yes, _sir_ ”, he chuckles in response.

At that, Benji clears his throat a few times through the call before audibly swallowing. A moment passes before he speaks again, and when he does, its with a casually serious tone. “Hey, uh… are you feeling better?”

His words unintentionally drag back the many memories of the night, but this time, Victor doesn’t feel so overwhelmed. He’s still terrified, granted, but it’s a manageable terror. His lashes flutter as he murmurs, “Yeah… I am. I know that tomorrow is going to be absolutely insane but, I’m _really_ glad for tonight. With us.”

“I’m glad tonight happened the way it did, too”, Benji murmurs back. “I just… I didn’t catch all of what you were saying before when you were mid-panic, but some of it sounded like some heavy stuff. If I was trying to deal with all of that, I would feel pretty overwhelmed, too. I was serious about it weighing a lot on a person. You shouldn’t have to bear it alone. Do you want to talk about it?”

Victor clenches his jaw, rubbing his fingers against his temple. “I… I don’t know, Benji. I broke down last time I tried to talk about it, and I don’t want you to have to try and fix my problems over the phone. It’s not fair on you.”

There’s a pause, and for a moment, Victor wonders if he has said something. Then, in the most inexplicable voice, he suggests, “What if we _didn’t_ do it over the phone, then?”

“How do you mean?” Victor’s face scrunches into a frown, and he rolls over onto his stomach.

“Well”, comes the tentative voice of Benji, “I-I was planning on… okay, I was gonna get into my Dad’s whiskey—”

“Benji”, Victor’s voice drips with the oncoming reprimand.

“ _But_ considering how that went last time, I think it best I find something better to do. So… wanna meet up?”

His heart clenches for himself and for Benji. “I-I… Look, I want to. I—God, I _really_ want to. I just… my parents have a curfew set for me.”

“Oh… okay… That’s okay, I understand.”

Biting his lip, Victor pulls the phone just far away enough from his ear to see the time. He still has a solid forty minutes before curfew is actually implemented. The park isn’t _too_ far from his house, and he knows Benji is reasonably local as well.

Screw it. Caution has well and truly been yeeted into the wind.

“Do you know where the park is with the faded blue playground?”

“The one that’s in desperate need of a paint job and a whole new swing set?”

“That’s the one. I’m about five minutes away from it. How long do you think it’d take you to get there?”

“Walking ten minutes, running an easy four.”

Victor smiles. “Please _don’t_ run. I’d feel terrible if you tripped in the dark.”

“Too bad, I’m already pulling my sneakers on”, comes the vocally undulated laugh from Benji, short breaths alluding to him hopping around. “I’m taking all the time with you I can get.”

The quaint smile blossoms into a full-blown grin, and it’s all he can do as he thinks about Benji sprinting toward him in a hoodie and sweats, light sheen of sweat on his forehead and upper lip, bright eyes locked in his. He bites his lip to stop the beam from splitting his face in two.

Hoodie and sweats. He looks down at his own dress shirt and slacks. Shit. “Ah hah, you know what? Sneakers actually sounds like a great idea”, he chuckles abashedly upon vaulting off his bed and heading straight to his chest of drawers, praying beyond prayer that he has some half-decent and clean casual clothes lying on top.

“Wait, um, Victor…” his voice suddenly drops in severity, and the shift of cadence makes Victor pause as he pulls out a bottle-green sweater, “you’re not gonna get in trouble for this, are you? I want to impress your parents but more than that, I don’t want you to jeopardise your own happiness and risk more stress if that’s all this will bring around.”

_‘He is so, so ridiculously sweet.’_

Lashes fluttering lightly, he hugs the phone closer to his ear, saying in the most tender voice, “Nothing would make me happier right now than to see you, Benji…. I-I mean it. And um, I still have a bit of time before midnight anyway, so, you know… it’s—it’s okay.”

The sweetest, gentlest laugh comes from the phone, and Victor swears the heart palpitations he’s experiencing could possibly kill him. “Awesome. Well, uh… I’ll see you in a few?”

“See you soon.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye”, Victor says breathlessly, not making a move to take the phone away from his ear as he waits for the tell-tale beep.

It doesn’t come; in its place is the light snort of Benji. “Are you gonna hang up?”

Victor laughs. “Are you?”

“I _should.”_

“I… don’t know if I can”, comes his murmured, blushing response.

Benji chuckles again (what is with them and laughing through this entire conversation?), and says, “Then don’t. Can you stay on the line until I see you?”

“Yeah, I might just have to… I don’t know, do something around my parents downstairs. Wait two seconds, I’m just gonna put you on speaker so I can get changed”, he says before reluctantly pulling the phone away and setting it atop his chest of drawers, clicking on the speaker icon.

“ _Oo_ , getting dressed up to see me?”

“Uh, well”, he chuckles, taking the consideration to speak in a quieter voice as he unbuttons his white shirt, “Considering I’m opting for a sweatshirt and jeans over formal wear, it’s more dressing _down.”_ He freezes. “I-I mean, you know, um, oh my god, like as in—”

“I know what you mean”, Benji says with a laugh that stems from deep in his core. “That was really cute.”

“Shut up, it was weird.” Victor mumbles behind his broad, aching smile. This boy… this boy is going to be the death of him. As he continues to shuck off his promwear in exchange for the comfy clothes, heart racing as the conversation flows back and forth between them, he can’t believe he ever thought he might be straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys liked this first chapter! i've listed this as a ten-chapter fic but with how much love i have for this show and these characters, it'll probs be more.
> 
> all kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! thanks lovelies
> 
> chapter title from One That I Want by PUBLIC


	2. You're Safe like Springtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor goes to meet with Benji. They talk, they cry, they do other things.  
> And Victor has conversation with a family member about his coming out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um the support this has gotten already?? im so soft?? thank you all so much??  
> chapter title from Lucky Strike by Troye Sivan (our god)
> 
> anyway enjoy this hella fluffy monstrosity

“ _Baby shark, doodoododoododoo, baby shark, doodoododoododoo, baby shark, doodoododoododoo, baby shark.”_

Victor walks rhythmically as the song blasts through his earphones, lips mouthing the lyrics in a whisper. His heart is still pounding like a fist within his chest, but it’s worlds away from how it had been upon leaving the house. There’s a reason he prefers to be the diffuser of confrontations rather than the instigator.

_“Where are you going?”_

_“Out. Just for a bit. For a run. I need some air.”_

_“We have air in the house. You can stay here and have all the air you want.”_

_“_ Mamí _, I… I-I can’t. Please, I need to go.”_

_“Isabel, just… just let him go. He’s still got time before curfew.”_

_“You may be okay with him running around the streets at near-midnight, but I am not._ Mijo _, you’re staying here.”_

_“No. No, I’m going.”_

Swallowing back the thick memories, he buries his hands into the pockets of Simon’s – now _his_ – fleece-lined denim jacket. The crisp April air whistles in the wind around him, nipping at his neck and cheeks like a farm-dog at the heels of cattle. He lets it – it’s spurring him on, keeping him going away from his house and towards the park, where he needs and wants to be. So, he keeps his head up and does not stop marching forward.

The music continues blaring in his ears as the park and playground swim into view. The blue paint is a glowing green under the dim streetlamps, the metallic slide catching its light in a silvery gold hue. And perched at the foot of it, playing with something in his hands as shaggy golden-brown hair falls across his eyes, is Benji. Victor’s heart flutters as the grin flourishes on his face.

“Hey Benji”, he calls softly as he pulls out his earphones, voice tentative and shy from the last time he saw him.

Benji’s head immediately snaps up and he jumps to his feet with the most brilliant and blinding smile. “Hey, you’re here. I got worried for a moment when you hung up out of the blue.”

“Yeah,” Victor winces, playing with the cuffs of his jacket as his gaze falters, “sorry about that. My parents, uh, they wanted to talk as I was going out the door. About the whole, you know, being gay thing.”

Benji winces right along with him, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth. “Fun times. How did that go?”

“ _Uh-um_ , about as well as you can imagine”, he chuckles wryly as his voice breaks and he looks to the side, biting his lips into a thin line. He is _not_ going to cry. He’s not.

Benji’s brows furrow into a frown as he steps toward him, brown eyes shining as they flicker between Victor’s downcast ones. After just the smallest moment of hesitation, he reaches forward and takes one of Victor’s hands within his own.

He’s held Benji’s hands a few times before now, but there is something about this moment that feels infinitely more intimate than any of the others. Benji’s hands are warm, and slightly calloused, and fit around his perfectly. His thumb drags over the back of it along his caramel skin; the pressure is firmly comforting and invites Victor to squeeze back. Still, Victor keeps his gaze averted. He’s not sure he could put up a front if he directly met Benji’s calm and considerate eyes.

“Victor…”, the other boy whispers, squeezing his hand just a touch firmer. Victor feels his eyes welling and he desperately blinks away any collecting moisture, ducking his head further to escape Benji having to witness it. Benji would never judge him for this – he knows that – but he didn’t come out here tonight to bombard him with problems and angst. He broke up with his long-term boyfriend tonight, so he certainly doesn’t need to deal with all this on top of it.

“Hey Victor”, his eternally soft voice prompts again, “Look at me.”

Victor squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on the feel of Benji, and not on the distant looks of his parents still fresh in his mind.

Benji’s hand unclasps itself from his, and he almost whines in the loss of comfort before he feels it again drifting along his jawline to his chin. “Please… look at me”, Benji says as he applies the smallest flicker of pressure to coax his head up.

Taking a deep breath, Victor braces himself and lifts his head, eyes leading the way until they’re caught in Benji’s, and Victor’s heart nearly halts in shock. They are steadfast and true as ever, but their brown depths are swimming, glistening in the warm-hued streetlamps. His brows are furrowed over them, lips drawn into a small, knowing smile. The hand at his chin lets fingers caress the skin there softly, and Victor practically melts at the contact.

“From what I saw of your family at your birthday, telling them who you are… it couldn’t have been easy. But you _did it_ ”, he whispers fervently, “You had the courage to stand up and be proud of who you are in the face of fear and uncertainty, and possible rejection. And nobody; not a family member, or a friend, or some random homophobe – and believe me, they’re gonna start popping up like weeds now—” Victor chuckles at that, and Benji smiles, “—but nobody can take that away from you. If you own who you are, you’re already half the way there, and I am _so_ proud of you, Victor. _So_ proud.”

It’s too much, or maybe it’s just the right amount, because a small tear tracks its way down his cheek, and it’s like the catalyst that opens the dam. He heaves a shuddering breath, and before he can even try to mutter out a thank you, Benji is wrapping his arms around him and bringing him into his strong embrace. Victor folds over his shorter frame, bringing his arms around his shoulders and clutching tight as the tremors come.

“I got you, it’s okay,” Benji’s voice murmurs from beside his ear, “Just let it out.”

And he does.

Every moment of anxiety, of rage, of despondency, of feeling beyond hope comes out and onto Benji’s shoulder, his maroon hoodie now moistened with tears.

It could have been a few minutes of perhaps several stormy days before the clouds broke and Victor was able to pull away, swiping furiously at his red-rimmed eyes. “Oh boy”, he chuckled abashedly, smiling as he sighed, “Haven’t had a cry like that in a long time.”

Benji snorts softly and tilts his head, hair falling across his eyes as they flicker between Victor’s. “It’s pretty cathartic, isn’t it? How do you feel?”

“Kind of, I don’t know…floaty.”

A silent chuckle courses Benji and he shakes his head, beaming up at Victor as he reaches both hands up to cup his face. Victor’s heart positively bounces around his chest in response. “God, you’re so cute”, the brunet says before drawing him down to a kiss, and the wave crashes over him, deafening in the euphoric turbulence.

Kissing Benji is somehow both calming and electric, grounding and aerial. Victor sighs into the contact, hands gravitating toward Benji’s waist and holding on like he’s his tether to sanity. Benji is warm and firm; secure in every way, and so lovely to touch. Where he dipped his toes in with Mia, he is now diving headfirst with the boy before him now. He is the ocean, and Victor finds himself yearning to explore every depth.

While electrifying, the kiss is short and sweet, and Benji pulls back with big brown eyes and a crooked smile, hands trailing down the length of Victor’s arms to hold his. “As amazing as _that_ is, that’s not why we’re hiding out in a gross, old playground at midnight.”

Victor’s smile crinkles his eyes. “Very fair point. Plus,” he says with a bemused frown, “pretty sure I saw an opossum scurrying around before, and tonight’s been, uh… _exciting_ enough as is. Do you wanna… Should we find a place to sit?”

“Our options are… fairly limited.” Benji releases one hand but maintains a firm hold on his other one – much to Victor’s complete delight – and they turn toward the playground. “To your left, you will see the park benches coated in pigeon poo, directly in front is the spiderweb that would take a year to squeeze into, and to your right is the swing set that will most likely collapse under our weight.”

“Hmm”, Victor raises his free hand to tap his chin, earning a snort from Benji, “How about we avoid all of those and get up onto the platform near the slide?”

“Sounds good.”

They start walking and the hand not enclosed around Victor’s dips into the pocket of his maroon hoodie before re-emerging again. A flash of blue catches his eye, and Victor glances down, letting out a small, breathy laugh. With knitted brows and a crooked smile, he cocks his head and points at the thing in Benji’s hand. “Is that a speaker?”

“Yup”, Benji says with a pop of the ‘p’, shaking the little blue gadget for show. “Good old Wonderboom. Perfect for late night rendezvouses in the park with Carly Rae Jepsen.”

Victor feels his cheeks and chest warm at the mention, memories of rump-shaking, locked eyes, and guitars swimming through his mind. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“What, the fact that you unironically listen to one of the most meme-worthy songs of our generation? Absolutely not.” His smile is dazzling in the soft light. “Especially since you made me like it, too.”

“I did? Twist.”

_‘Oh boy, Felix is rubbing off on me.’_

“Come on; I played it as an encore at Battle of the Bands. Practically harassed the rest of the band into doing it. I’d have to like it at least a little to do that.”

Some unbidden confidence flourishes within Victor from his words, and with a coy grin, he squeezes Benji’s hand once before letting it go to start scaling up the playground. “Or maybe you just liked _me_ a lot.”

It had been said in jest, but as he flickers his gaze down to catch the tail-end of Benji’s blush, he can’t help but wonder if it was the truth, even back then. “So… out and proud Victor is a bold Victor. I like it.”

Victor chuckles as he scoots back along the metal platform until his back hits the railing. As he waits for Benji to sit beside him, he pulls his legs into a tent and wraps his arms loosely around them. There’s barely an inch between them as they sit parallel, and Benji leans into him as he pulls out his phone. As he turns on the Bluetooth, he flashes a glance at Victor. “So, are we feeling Carly? Or something else?”

Lips quirking wryly at the corners, Victor meets his eye gravely. “Maybe something that doesn’t have as much of a, uh…”

“Rump-shaking vibe?”

“Yeah, that”, he chuckles softly, swallowing as he feels the cloud of severity settling over him once more. “Um… that playlist you had going in the car on the way to fix the coffee machine was pretty good.”

A quiet smile on his expression, Benji nods, scrolling through his Spotify. “That’s one of my favourites.”

He presses clicks shuffle on the playlist titled ‘easy goings’, and the voice of Alec Benjamin echoes softly from the speaker.

For a moment, they just sit and soak in the peace and quiet, letting the gentle music and chirps of crickets sink into their weary bones. Then, Victor feels Benji shift next to them, feels his eyes roaming over his face. “Look, if… you don’t want to talk about the stuff that happened tonight, we don’t have to. We can take this… thirty-two minutes to just leave that behind for a moment, if that’s what you’d prefer. Whatever you want.”

Victor slowly lifts his eyes to meet Benji’s and smiles out a sigh. “I want to forget about it all, but I think I _need_ to talk about it. That is if you’re okay with me just venting out angst for a few minutes.”

“ _Ahh_ … Repressed angst; the cornerstone of being gay. That and the dramatic flair. Ticked two boxes already”, Benji teases, bumping his shoulder into Victor’s. His tone sobers again as he says, “And of course I’m okay with it. You shouldn’t have to handle this alone.”

Victor’s eyes shift between Benji’s and he feels the sincerity within them warm him to his core. “Thanks”, he murmurs.

Then, taking in a deep breath, he begins.

He starts off allusively high when talking about coming out to Felix, and how it couldn’t have gone better. Then, he averts his gaze with guilt and shame as he tells Benji about running up to Mia’s tear-tracked face and Andrews disproving one. His voice quivers as he recalls Pilar’s disdain and distance, and how that carried with them right through to the door. He chokes on his words as he talks about his parents’ monologue that led up to the statement of their separation. His chest stings as he remembers the way it felt when his shell finally snapped, and he spun around, head held high and came out, standing his ground even as he took the bullets of his family’s shock and uncomforting reactions.

Throughout it all, Benji’s hand squeezes his in the gentlest pressure, but it is the perfect reminder that he’s not alone. It’s that fact that helps him stay grounded, and miraculously, he gets through the entire spiel without breaking down.

“Anyway, I… I got a lot to do tomorrow, and a lot to fix. First things first – talk to Mia. Explain everything. Apologise, like, a _lot_. And then, there’s talking to my parents… Not a conversation I’m looking forward to, but, one that needs to happen. No matter what, though, I’m not going to apologise for being myself, ‘cause I’m finally starting to understand who that is.”

As he reaches the end, he glances in Benji’s direction. There’s a single tear tracking down his cheek, and Victor’s unoccupied hand reaches across to brush it away. Benji snorts, brows furrowed. “I think we got the roles mixed up here”, he chuckles through a scratchy voice, blinking and breathing in through his nose. “Oh my God, what is wrong with me?”

“I had my cry before”, Victor murmurs softly. “Besides, this in itself is… weirdly comforting. I can’t explain it but… yeah.”

His thumb drags over the soft skin of Benji’s cheek, relishing in how smooth and wonderful and warm he feels. The other boy leans into the touch, looking up at Victor with those beautiful brown eyes as he is already well on his way to falling in love with.

His brain barely has time to properly process the depth of that thought before Benji leans forward and presses his lips to Victor’s.

Where the other kisses were desperate grasps for affection, a descent into feeling after having not felt in so long, this one is soft and tender. This one is a reassurance, a reminder of love, and the promise that there’s more to come. It might possibly be Victor’s new favourite thing.

When they pull back, Victor rests his forehead on Benji’s and revels in the simmering proximity. They stay like that for a moment, with closed eyes and quiet breaths. There’s an ethereal sort of song playing – Troye Sivan, Victor believes – as Benji reaches an arm up and envelops him into his embrace. Victor melts like absolute putty within the contact, smiling as Benji murmurs, “I’m so sorry you’re going through all of this right now. You don’t deserve any of it.”

The words by themselves are more than enough, and Victor buries his nose into Benji’s shoulder, breathing him in as contentment washes over him.

“Thank you for telling me”, Benji continues before pulling back, hand firmly on Victor’s shoulder as he meets his gaze with severity. “And I promise you are not going through it alone. I’m always one call away whenever you need a hug, or to rant, or to just get away. I hope you know that.”

“I do.” He smiles. “And thank you. I feel a lot better knowing that I’ve got people like you, Felix and Simon.”

Benji cocks his head. “Simon?”

As if on cue, his phone pings from his lap and the screen lights up, showing an Instagram notification. ‘ **New Message: Simon Spier’**.

Victor looks down at in mild interest, lifting the phone closer as Benji’s jaw hits the floor, and suddenly, the brunet is all but scrambling onto his lap.

“Shut up”, he gasps from his semi-perch, mouth wide open as his eyes dart back and forth between the phone and a shocked Victor, “Simon as in Simon Spier? _The_ Simon Spier?”

“U-um…” Victor mutters, glancing away as he feels his face turn into a roaring inferno, “yeah—yeah, that’s, uh, that’s him.”

“So, you’re just casually friends with Simon Spier?”

“Y-yeah, um, I actually went to, uh, stay with him and his boyfriend in New York a couple of weeks ago?”

“You—!” Benji places his hands flat against each other and holds them to his mouth, taking in a long, deep breath. “You know both Simon and Bram, and you’ve stayed with them in New York.”

It’s phrased like a question, so Victor answers it like one. “…Yes.”

“…Okay. Woah. Holy shit, that is cool.” Benji settles back just a fraction, offering Victor some personal space, and the young Latino can’t decide if he’s glad or sorry for the action. “Um… how? How do you know these guys? How did this all come about?”

“Oh… um… well, Ms Albright told me about him on the first day, and some stuff happened that kinda led me to… messaging him out of spite and jealousy.”

Benji snorts at that, shaking his head as he sighs. “Guess he took it in his stride if you guys are still talking.”

“Yeah, he’s now my self-proclaimed ‘gay sherpa’.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Benji’s lips lift in a crooked smile. “I’m glad you got him in your corner. He was actually the reason I found the courage to come out. He’s pretty cool. From what I’ve heard, anyway.”

Victor grins, nodding along. “Yeah, he definitely is cool. I can’t imagine how I’d have gotten through half of this without his and his friends’ guidance. They’ve been really good.”

“That’s awesome, Victor”, he says with a soft smile, eyes not-so-subtly flickering toward the phone. “You gonna read what he said?”

He blinks. “Oh, I—I can look at it later. I don’t wanna be rude.”

“Don’t be silly.” He waves a dismissive hand. “No way am I getting in the way of you and your gay sherpa.”

“Shut up”, Victor laughs, butting his shoulder into Benji’s before sighing and unlocking his phone. He can feel Benji’s eye curiously looking over his shoulder, but he doesn’t mind a bit as he scrolls through the message.

**_ simonspiersays _ **

_Gosh, Victor, sounds like quite the night. I can’t tell you what you should be feeling because honestly, I couldn’t even imagine what it must be like. And your parents separating on top of all of this… I’m so sorry this all happened on what was supposed to be a fun night._

_Firstly, you need to prioritise talking with Mia. It’ll be scary, but you need to tell her everything. If you want a chance to stay friends after this, she needs full transparency, and as you said, she deserves it too._

_That being said, you’ve taken one of the biggest and scariest steps in accepting yourself, and I couldn’t be prouder that you had the courage to come out to your family. I’m sorry your parents are being less than understanding about it. My dad walked out of the room when I said those words – ‘I’m gay’ – and I immediately panicked too. It’s terrifying telling those you love and respect most such a big secret about yourself, but as my mom said to me, you get to exhale now. You can breathe now, Victor._

_Siblings are hard in situations like this. My little sister, Nora, was pretty great in trying to be there for me when I was outed, but I shut her out. Her and Pilar are of similar age, but they sound like they could be quite different in personality. That being said, your sister sounds very loyal to those she cares about, and if she loves you the way I think she does, she could become your biggest ally. She may need some time to come to terms with the cheating, but you gotta have faith that she’ll understand._

_Hold on, I’m not finished, but I’m lying in bed with Bram and he wants to say something_ 😑.

_victorrrrr :(((( i’m sending you the biggest hug right now. you literal cinnamon roll, you ever need to escape for a weekend or forever, message simon and he’ll book you a ticket to NY. OR message me and i’ll bully him until he does :D_

_oop, someone’s not happy hehehe. anyway, i’ll leave you to gay sherpa #2 and you two can have your d &m, but real quick I just wanna say IM SO PROUD OF YOU AND YASSSS GET_ 👏 _YOUR_ 👏 _MANS OMFG IVY OWES ME FIFTY BUCKS THE GAYS STAY WINNING TEAM VENJI FTW DJNIWUR INDI SIMON WBVIUBVIEN ASSHOL EIRI_

_Sorry about that. Had to wrestle the phone from the CHILD’S hands (I’m very much glaring at him right now). Anyway, back to what I was saying…_

“Wait, is that a… is that my name with a V? But why…”

_‘Ahhhhhhhh PANIC.’_

“Nope.” Victor hurries to stash his phone into his pocket, but Benji is already back to climbing back on top of him. “Nope, nope, nope.”

“Victor, is that—oh my _God_ , it’s a combination of our names. It’s our couple name.”

“Nope, nope, definitely not.”

“Victor, let me _see!_ ”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh my god, this means that Simon Spier knows who I am. _Whaaaat,_ oh my god, Simon Spier knows who _I_ am.”

“Benji, s-stop”, Victor cries through laughter, squirming as he leans out of Benji’s probing fingers.

The boy on top of him freezes, a light appears in his eyes, and it is as though Christmas has come early. “You’re ticklish.”

_‘Oh, shit.’_

“N-no, I’m not…?”

The grin on Benji’s face is blinding. “Yeah, you are.”

As the fingers bury into and scatter around his skin, Victor continues to wriggle and squirm, muttering out ‘stop’, ‘please’, ‘you’re so dead’ through his barks of laughter.

“ _Jesucristo,_ I surrender, I surrender”, he finally laughs out from the floor, looking up through his blissfully blurry eyes. Benji is hovered over him, one hand braced near his arm and the other by his waist. His eyes and smile are tender and soft, usually coiffed hair framing his face, and the sight is beyond effervescent.

Victor doesn’t know if his heart can handle much more of this.

He doesn’t find out, because after a moment, Benji rolls to the side and lies down next to him. Their heads roll to face one another, smiling blissfully before turning back to face the sky above them. It’s littered with light pollution, and there’s only a few spatters of stars, but with their hands clasped together between them, it’s perfect.

Victor feels a small pressure on his shoulder, and his eyes glance down to that Benji has shifted his head onto it. The other boy smiles serenely before nestling his own on top of Benji’s.

They lie there for a moment and just stare up the universe, music still playing from the speaker beside them, and it is perfect tranquillity.

“… Should we be lying down on this? Like… we could be lying down in anything right now.”

“Alcohol.”

“Pigeon poo.”

“Kids have probably peed on it.”

Welp, tranquillity over. The boys get to their feet in a mixture of disgusted groans and chuckles, cringing as they instinctively touch at their hair with tentative fingers. Victor is laughing as Benji recoils in disgust at some gum stuck to his trackpants when his phone pings again. He fishes it from his pocket and the smile drops.

**_Pilar_ **

**_-11:55pm-_ **

_When are u coming home_

_I need to talk to u_

Benji seems to sense the shift in atmosphere, as he leaves the gum to its sticky devices and comes to stand beside Victor. His brows knit as he looks at the message, lips drawing into a thin line, and he brings a hand up to squeeze Victor’s shoulder. Victor gravitates to his touch.

“Guess you need to be getting home.”

Eyes still glued on the message, Victor swallows. “Yeah, I probably should.”

The pressure comes on his shoulder again, coaxing Victor’s eyes up to meet Benji’s. “I meant what I said before. You ever need _anything_ , you call me. If stuff happens tonight and you don’t feel okay, I want you to call me. I do not care what time it is – I’ll pick up. Got it?”

Victor’s lips quiver into a smile, and he nods, sharp and short. “Got it.”

“Okay”, Benji whispers, face trying to reflect his tentative smile.

They disembark from the playground, walking with slow steps toward the streetlamp by the footpath. On arriving there, Victor pulls Benji into crushing hug, fervently whispering “Thank you for tonight”, into his ear. Benji meets his strength and clutches back.

They part with a small kiss, holding hands until the last second when Victor turns on his heel and begins walking off. While they’re in each other’s sights, they keep looking back, chuckling abashedly when they catch one another in the act.

Before Benji rounds the corner toward his street, he turns back and gives Victor a thumbs up. It’s such a small act of encouragement, but it’s significant enough to keep him moving forward with purpose in his stride as he marches back toward his house with his chin raised, pride and hope swelling in his chest.

* * *

The door to the family apartment is thankfully still unlocked as Victor reaches it. He pauses before turning the knob, steeling himself with a breath, and then pushes it open.

The living room is completely empty upon a wary peep inside, as is the kitchen. Treading as quietly as possible, he walks toward his room with his shoes in hand, biting his lip whenever there’s an unbidden squeak. As he steps past Pilar’s room, he notices that the door is ajar and there’s a soft light emanating from inside. Remembering her text, he pauses, brows knitting as he glances at the door. A moment of contemplation passes before he grits his teeth, and he lets out the smallest sigh before nudging the door in a fraction.

“Pilar,” he whispers into the void, “you awake?”

There’s a beat of silence before he hears a quiet, “Yeah… Come in.”

Shifting his shoes into his other hand, he pushes the door open so he can step in. Pilar is sitting on her bed, makeup from the Spring Fling smudged, back pressed to the wall with her legs crossed in front. She’s looking at him with an expression he can’t quite discern, and that scares Victor down to his core.

“Hey…” he murmurs tentatively, walking toward her with the wariness of someone approaching a lion. “Can I… can I sit?”

“Sure.”

_‘Okay, just breathe. You’re okay. You can do this.’_

He hushes his heart as he places his shoes at the foot of her bed before climbing onto it, crawling across the doona until he sits beside her, knees hugged to his chest. The silence stretches out the two feet between them, and Victor can hear his goddamn heart thundering in his ears as he prays to God for Pilar to say something, anything.

 _He_ sure as hell doesn’t know what to say.

“How long have you known?”

His head snaps up at her question, watching her as she stares dead at the wall in front of her. “U-um…” he begins before finding it’s too much to look at her, and he glances down at his knees, “I suspected for a while, and even thought I might be bi or something, but I didn’t really know until a couple of weeks ago. And I… I don’t know, maybe I always knew and was just trying to deny it.”

“What was the deal with Mia, then? Were you just stringing her along for, what… popularity? An experiment?”

“No”, he answers immediately. “No, I genuinely thought that Mia and I would work. That—that _girls_ and I would work. I love being around her and treating her to things and… and even the kissing; I liked that. And I _tried_ , because she is amazing and one of my favourite people ever, and she deserves the world and I wanted to give that to her, but I… I realised I couldn’t. Not in the way she wanted.”

“And, so B was…”

Victor heaves a shuddering sigh, head tilted down as he mumbles out, “Benji. It was Benji I kissed.”

She nods slowly in his periphery, and the measured indifference in her eyes makes him want to scream. After a moment, she says, “So, what are you going to do about Mia?”

He swallows thick and glances at his hands as they wring together. “I’m gonna call her first thing in the morning, ask to talk and for a chance to explain myself, and to tell that if she wants nothing to do with me after, I’ll understand and respect her wishes… After what I did, it’s the least she deserves.”

There’s silence that follows, and Victor forces himself to stay cool and composed as he slowly turns to gauge her reaction. As he meets her gaze, he blinks.

Her eyes are welled, and she shakes her head, glancing up to the heavens above before leaning toward him. “Come here, you big gay idiot.”

She pulls him into her frame, arms crushing him to her as she holds him in place. Emerging from his stupor, Victor brings his arms to wrap around her. Despite the insurmountable constraint around him, he feels elevated, and half-chuckles-half-cries onto her.

“You—You’re not mad?”

She snorts and squeezes him extra tight. “For once, no. Of course, I’m not mad. I’m just happy to finally know why you’ve been so weird lately.”

That brings a quiet but hearty laugh from his chest. “Yeah, turns out the closet is a pretty shitty place to be in.”

She hums in response, rubbing circles on his back. If Victor wasn’t so overjoyed, he might be stressing about how this is the most emotional intelligence his sister has shown in… forever. “Okay, actually, I’m still kinda mad over what’s happened with Mia, but that’s mainly because this sucks for her, she’s awesome, and she made you tolerable as her boyfriend.”

“Um, rude much?”

“Um, boring much?” She pulls back, offering him a lop-sided smirk, and it’s honestly the most gleeful expression he’s seen on her since the days when she watched _Curious George_. “Actually, that’s not true anymore, ‘cause you’re no longer the cookie-cutter child Mom makes you out to be.”

The reminder of their parents drags Victor back to earth, and he clenches his jaw. “H-how was she—how they after I left?”

Pilar takes in a deep breath, glancing away as she sits back down. Victor places a hand atop hers and holds it, and then slowly, she says, “They… didn’t exactly say much, from what I saw. It was a lot of tired looks and sighing, so, take that how you will. They’re still sleeping in the same bed tonight, so… I don’t know, maybe the… the separation thing isn’t legit?”

Victor’s chest aches for his family, in particular himself and his younger siblings, but he’s not lying anymore, so in a quiet voice, he says, “I… think it is, Pilar. At least for now.”

He doesn’t say that they’re probably sharing a bed to discuss his ‘ill-timed and attention-seeking admission’.

His sister nods, lowering her eyes as the walls build up around her again. Before they can finish, Victor brings her into one last hug, rocking her gently as he rubs at her back the way she had done his. “No matter what happens with them, I’ll always have your back, you know that, right?”

“Mhm.” He feels her arms reach around him, followed by a mumbled, “You too, _mano._ ”

They stay like that for a few seconds before she grumbles out, “Okay, enough affection, thanks.”

He smiles as she draws away, her default mode of annoyed scowl back in place. “Better finish taking off the makeup, or you’ll look like something out of the _Walking Dead_ tomorrow.”

“Oh my God, am I gonna be dealing with makeup tips from you now you’re out?”

“Now see, that’s stereotyping.”

“Okay, but answer the question.”

He snorts, picking up the shoes as he gets off the bed and begins walking toward the door “Night, Pilar”, he whispers, offering her a placating smile before stepping through the door, carefully and slowly shutting it so it doesn’t squeak on its hinges.

The moment before it shuts, he hears, “ _Hijo de puta.”_

He shakes his head as he steps across the hallway, crossing the threshold of his own bedroom in barely four strides. Once in, he flings his phone onto the bed and goes about peeling off the fleece-lined denim jacket, hanging it around his desk chair. His jeans follow suite in a few hops and fluid movements and are laid atop the jacket. Exhaustion sags through his body, and he manages to pull on some pyjama pants before flopping onto his bed face first. He lays there for a moment, just letting all the bitterness and anxiety seep from his being to his bed and down into the floorboards. Then, he turns onto his cheek and reaches for his phone.

Upon looking at the screen, his smile is immediate.

**_Benji Campbell_ **

**_-12:12am-_ **

_I know I said for you to call me, but I just wanted there to not be any room for you to pull that ‘I’m fine’ BS and bottle it up. Are you okay? How is everything there?_

Victor exhales soft and sharp, flipping onto his back and shimmying his way up the bed so he can crawl under the covers. Once under, he doesn’t hesitate in typing out a response.

_You are so sweet x_

_And yeah I’m okay. Parents were already in bed when I got home. Pilar and I had that talk and she was surprisingly understanding?_

The three dots start bouncing almost immediately, and it makes Victor’s heart sing.

_That’s good? That’s amazing?? Why the question mark???_

_Cos I definitely was not expecting it the way it happened?_

_I mean, you’ve met her a couple of times. Does she seem like the type of person to be all warm and fuzzy?_

_…At the risk of insulting a family member, I’m gonna say no._

_Trust me, she’d take that as a compliment haha_

_Lmao_

_That’s so good though, Victor. I’m so happy for you x_

_Thanks_ _😊_ _I am too. Im still really nervous about my parents tomorrow, but I feel a lot better having talked to pilar and you tonight._

As Victor types out his next message, he bites his lip, thumb hovering over the keyboard before pressing one more thing and then sending it off.

_Especially you_ ❤️

 _Im glad I was able to help_ **💕**

Victor’s heart nearly combusts.

_Coming out is really hard, and its not like its over and done with when you finally drop the words. It’s a process – one Im still going through after a year – and you have to remind yourself that its okay to not have your shit together all the time. That its okay to lean on other people for support. I am, and I will always be one of those people. You’ve also got Simon (still reeling omfg), Bram, Felix (the legend, we stan), and now Pilar too. All these people who care for you unconditionally and want to see you happy and thriving_

_Never forget that_

A single tear slips down from Victor’s eyes, and he brushes it away, smiling as he types a reply.

_Thanks so much Benji. You are honest to god beyond amazing_

_Ahh hush. I am blushing very hard right now._

_That’s adorable. I mean it, though. With my whole heart._

_Youre pretty incredible yourself, you know?_

_Im starting to learn_ _😊_

_Good ☺️_

Unbidden comes a yawn from Victor’s throat, and as he attempts to blink the blurry sleep away, he glances at the time. Nearly half-past twelve. Yikes. And after the strenuous events of today, it feels closer to three. Begrudgingly, he sighs.

_Alright, I should probably try to sleep. Got a hell of a day ahead tomorrow._

_It’s past midnight sooooo, isn’t it technically today?_

_Oh god, please don’t tell me your one of those people hahah_

_Insufferable know-it-all only on occasion_ _😜_

_But that’s probably a good idea. Plus I am kinda struggling to keep my eyes open right now._

_Have a good sleep, and sweet dreams_ _💖_

_You too. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?_

_Don’t you dARE say today >:(_

_Hahahahah_

_Yes, definitely talk tomorrow xx_

_Goodnight Benji_ ❤️

_Goodnight Victor ❤️_

Victor stares at his phone a moment longer, eyes focusing on the myriad of hearts upon his screen before sighing in ecstasy and holding it his chest. His heart feels all light and fluffy like cotton candy, tooth-rotting level of sweet as he reflects on the past hour.

Tomorrow will bring with it undeniable uncertainty, but for now, he plugs his phone into its charger, turning the volume down low as he goes into Spotify and finds the ‘easy goings’ playlist on Benji’s profile. Sleep comes easier than he would have ever expected as the first song starts to play, and it lulls him into dreams filled with brown-eyed boys and light-filled laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: each chapter is gonna be 3-4k words  
> this chapter: whats good bitch. im double that xD
> 
> thank you all SO SO much for the love from last chapter. like holy shitttt. that was insane.  
> hope this one lived up to expectations


	3. She Cried 'Te Amo'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor deals with the aftermath of the Spring Fling, and prepares for an incredibly daunting couple of conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its 3:30am. my head hURTS. i barely proofread this so i apologise for any mistakes <3
> 
> chapter title from Te Amo by Rihanna

Before today, if someone had asked Victor what the most awkward meal of the day was, he would have given them a weird look because, well, it’s a weird question, and then, after a moment’s deliberation, answered with dinner. It’s the end of the day, everyone is tired and generally grumpy and, as is the case in the Salazar household, tensions run particularly high after the stress of the day. Everyone has a barbed tongue waiting for the right moment to lash out, and Victor is internally massaging his migraine as he prepares to break up the ensuing fight.

That would have been Victor’s answer _before_ this morning’s breakfast.

Silence falls like a fog over the table as everyone goes about their meal. Adrian sits between Isabel and Armando, all big-eyed and confused as he glances around at his family, lost and unsure of how to break the stiltedness since his big brother has taken the backseat. Pilar sits between her father and Victor, head down as she swirls her spoon around the soggy cereal before her. She keeps sparing quiet glances in her older brother’s direction, and whenever Victor feels her gaze on him, he bumps his knee gently to hers – a silent thank you.

Eyes glued to his own meal, Victor takes measured bites, shoulders bunched and closed around him. He is _so_ careful, so deliberate with every movement, not wanting to even open the opportunity for his Cinnamon Toast Crunch to slip off his spoon and make an audible splash in the milk.

He loves a cooked breakfast, as does everyone in his family. Lord knows they could use some pancakes right about now, but Victor just can’t be the fixer this time round. He doesn’t have the energy.

Besides, this feels like a problem too big to be solved by pancakes.

It’s just gone 8:30am, and the morning sun is streaming warmly through the window. Victor tries to focus on the way it eases through his sweater and into his bones, rather than on the weight of his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. He has it off vibrate and on silent, so is completely oblivious to whether or not Mia has responded to his text yet.

**_Mia Brooks_ ** **_✨_ **

**_-Today 7:23am-_ **

_Mia, I am so so sorry about last night. I understand if you never want to talk to me again, but if you’d let me, could you give me five minutes today to explain everything? I meant what I said last night – you’re one of my favourite people in the world, and I’ve been lying to you and myself. I don’t want to do that anymore. It’s unfair on you, and you deserve the full truth. If you’re interested in meeting up, just text me a time and place and I’ll be there._

_Again, I am so sorry._

The texts were fairly short and simple as he has all the important stuff saved for meeting her in person, but it took him at least fifteen minutes of typing and retyping before he finally sent it. He fights the urge to bite his cheek and instead focuses his energy on finishing breakfast so we can get out and start repairing the damage he’s caused. And there is a whole, stinking pile of it.

Suddenly, he’s not hungry anymore. Taking a moment to recollect himself with a quiet breath in, he places the spoon down in his bowl and rises to his feet. He keeps his eyes down as he grabs the empty bowls and stacks them underneath his own, actively ignoring the persistent weight of his mother’s eyes on him.

“ _Mijo_ , once you’ve put the plates away, can you come back and sit for a talk?” her voice follows him as he moves swiftly toward the kitchen.

He places the dishes into the sink with a too-loud clatter, and he exhales shakily to alleviate his spiking blood pressure. “I have work, Mom”, he lies. “I gotta get moving.”

“I thought you got this Saturday off with the dance and everything?”

“Sarah needed me to work an extra shift. Last minute sort of thing. Look, I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“Victor!” she calls, but he’s already walking toward his bedroom, heart racing around his chest like a greyhound. Once inside the safety of a closed door, he whips out his phone and unlocks it with shaky hands.

**_Mia Brooks_ ** **_✨_ **

_Dad and Veronica are out for breakfast. Wont be back till lunchtime. Come whenever._

He breathes a shuddering sigh, drawing a hand back through his hair and gripping it at the back, looking over the message once more, hastily typing a reply before pocketing it into his jeans once more.

_Thank you. I’ll be over in twenty._

He grabs a red hoodie from his drawer, pulling it over the top of his t-shirt in one fluid motion. His gaze flickers between his Nikes and sneakers before he settles for the latter, shucking them on quickly, grabbing his earphones and keys, and then walking out the door. He moves down the hallway quickly, keeping his eyes firmly in front of him as he utters out a quick “See you” toward the kitchen. He doesn’t bother waiting on a response before opening the door and stepping out of the apartment.

Is he avoiding talking to his parents about his huge ass revelation? Absolutely. But here’s the thing – Victor has spent so long being the fixer of his family, looking after everyone else and ensuring that none of their problems escalated beyond reason, that he does not know what to do now that _he’s_ the one with the problem. He can’t even begin to grapple with it. He feels like a racehorse that has been taken off the track and turned out to pasture for the first time. It’s open, it’s uncertain – sure, he wants to run into it, but he’s always had to just follow the circular course before. Now that he has the reins, he just doesn’t know what to do with them.

And that is batshit terrifying.

He hops down the stairs of the apartment building, shifting his earphones into his ear and clicking on whichever playlist is closest to his thumb before pushing off into a jog.

When Victor came out last night, it had been like a firecracker had snapped inside of him and sent adrenaline coursing through his veins. It had felt like the biggest rush and relief to say the words then, but now? He’s lost the momentum. It’s too early in the morning to deal with the fallout.

He’s more interested in sorting things out with Mia because talking with Mia, the girl he lied to, the girl he cheated on, the girl whose heart is absolutely _broke_ beyond question _because of him…_ is a less terrifying prospect than talking with his parents.

* * *

He’s at her house in 16 minutes – or about four and a half songs, as has been his method of timekeeping during the run – and suddenly he wishes he’d spent more time mentally psyching himself up. He knows Mia is an incredibly understanding and empathetic person, but even she has her limits. And Victor has pushed them way beyond their barriers.

So, he stands outside her door for a solid minute, fist raised to knock on the door and shaking as he clenches it until his knuckles go white.

 _‘Just knock’,_ he tells his stone-stiff body. _‘Just tap your knuckles against the door. That’s all you have to do.’_

 _‘Liar’_ , says his body.

Stepping back from the door, his hands come to rest on his hips and he glances down, lungs tightening from the pressure he feels surging from his heart. He sucks in a breath of the warm spring air, letting it inflate his chest and straighten him up. His mouth hardens in determination, eyes starring down the door like it’s a long shot on the basketball court. As he grits his teeth and steels his nerves, stepping back toward the door, it opens with a quiet click. He halts in his tracks.

Mia is standing on the other side, leaning against the door in an oversized hoodie and grey trackpants. Her hair is in a bun with a few ringlets falling around her face, drawing attention to the puffiness surrounding her tired, red eyes. Slowly, they glance up to meet his own, and Victor’s heart shatters within his chest at the way they appear so distant and cold.

Her voice is scratchy, hoarse and low as she says, “I saw you standing outside for, like, four minutes. Didn’t know if you were actually going to bother knocking so…” she shakes her head, brows lifting as her gaze slides to the side, “yeah, did it for you.”

“Thank… thank you, Mia.” He wrings his hands, forcing his eyes to stay focused on the girl in front of him as he says, “Do you wanna talk inside, or out here, or…”

She turns from the door, leaving it open behind her as she walks back inside. “Let’s just go to the couch. I really don’t care.”

Victor swallows the stupidly rigid and thick clump in his throat and steps over the threshold, closing the door behind him as quietly as humanly possible, before stepping after his—

Not girlfriend. That’s definitely not the term to call her, nor the one she should have to be labelled as.

As they walk past the pristine white hallway and the kitchen with the walk-in refrigerator, he’s reminded of just how excessive and lonely Mia’s home is. How truly solitary and exorbitant it must feel for one person, especially for someone so young. He digs his hands into his pockets as they move silently, pushing out his own anxieties as he focuses on the back of Mia’s short stature as she shifts around the coffee table to sit down on the couch, pulling a cushion onto her lap as her back rests against another with a soft thump. She keeps her gaze averted as he sits down a measured four feet away from her.

After an awkward moment of him shifting and trying to find something akin to a comfortable position, he braces his forearms on his knees and leans forward, hands clasped together as they rock in tandem. His Adam’s apple bobs in the column of his throat, and clenching his jaw once, he turns to face her. “Mia, I… I’m sorry.”

She glances to the ceiling and takes in a great breath, rueful smile on her face as her lashes in flutter in rapid blinks. Victor’s chest constricts.

“Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m feeling right now, but from the bottom of my heart, I _am_ so, so sorry, Mia. You are the last person I’d ever want to hurt and I did one of the worst things I could possibly do – especially given what you know about my family”, he chuckles in self-disdain, internal animosity coiling around his heart. “I just… I never should have done things the way I did and if I could do it differently, I would. And I know you said I should forgive my Mom when she… when she cheated, but this is an entirely different situation and if you can’t forgive me for what happened, I want you to know that I’ll completely understand.” He swallows again, glancing down. “And I… I told you that you deserved the full truth in my text earlier so… I don’t know if Andrew told you what he overheard in the bathroom last night”, he prompts, eyes looking toward her.

Mia’s tired eyes look down at her own hands. “No… no, he didn’t say anything.”

Victor lets out a small exhalation, eternally thankful to Andrew for having kept his promise, much to Victor’s surprise. This is something that needs to come from him and him alone. “Well, um, that day that I had to stay away for work, I um…” he sighs, shakily and tense before forcing his eyes to focus back on Mia, “Benji and I shared a motel room and I… I kissed him.”

“Wow”, she breathes out, shaking her head as her voice cracks. “So, this has been going on for _how_ long exactly?”

“I—”, his words falter. “That time and last night were the only moments where I actually did anything, but I—I’ve been… thinking about it for a while.”

“Okay, awesome.” She stares at the floor beneath her, tears welling in her midnight-brown eyes and Victor halts himself before his hand can instinctually reach over to wipe the moisture from them. Her tongue swipes over her lip, eyes darting madly before she glances up at him and says, “Just… God, Victor, why did you do it? Was this just some game to you? Like… were you even attracted to me at all?”

God, he hates how she sounds, and how he is the cause of her sounding like that. The urge to rectify that overwhelms him, and suddenly his thoughts run out of his mouth like a gushing waterfall. “No—no, Mia, I swear it wasn’t a game. It was _never_ a game with you. I… I really like you, and I loved every bit of our time together, and for a while, I-I thought it was maybe just nerves keeping me from going to that next level, you know, but then that night when, um… when Felix came over with me and we went to your room, I started to realise that it was more than that. After that was when I kissed Benji, and it was impulsive and stupid and reckless and selfish and _the_ most dick-move I could’ve pulled, and I finally knew the truth I’d been trying to deny.

“And then I lied to you and my family a-and everyone and went to New York to just escape everything and be around Simon ‘cause he gets it and I just wanted to be able to—to _breathe_ for five minutes. When I came back, I knew I had to tell you, and that night at yours with the sushi, I had planned to, then the whole thing happened with Veronica and your dad and I just couldn’t add my shit on top of all that. I… I planned to tell you after the dance… today, actually… I just wanted to give you one last night of fun before having to drop another bombshell on you. I thought if I could make it through the night and make sure you had a good time in amongst everything that had happened…” he sighs, jaw clenching as he forces out, “but I—I should’ve just been honest with you as soon as I knew… because it would have hurt you no matter the how or when…”

“Yeah, no kidding.” She looks at him with a bitten lip and welling eyes, fingers twisting a ring on her finger. “Look, I—” her eyes dart up before settling back on him with a steely reserve, “—In a weird-ass, convoluted way, I get where you’re coming from.”

“You… you do?” Victor tries to keep the hope in his voice as a dim light.

Mia juts her head as a responding affirmation. “You were trying to be… chivalrous… in your own odd Victor way. But Victor – cheating is _cheating_. No matter what you were trying to do, you still cheated, and that… that hurts.” His jaw clenches and he nods, glancing down as his skin prickles. “And, you know, then there’s the whole being gay thing. I just… if you were already thinking about and questioning it, why the hell get involved with me? You may have been using this as an opportunity to figure out what you want, but from the beginning I’ve _known_ what I want, and I think I made it pretty clear.”

He nods slowly, drawing air into his cooled lungs in a hope to somehow bring him a calming clarity. “I… ever since we met, I felt really connected to you, so I started thinking that maybe I was bisexual, or pan, or… something, ‘cause I definitely liked you and it really confused me. And, you know, at the start, I really _did_ like the physical stuff. I thought that it’d be enough, or in time I’d be okay with going further, but when we _did_ start to go further, that’s… that’s when I started to panic and realise there was… something wrong with me. I wanted to tell you but I just… I got scared and I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings. You had enough on your plate already.”

After a moment of weighted silence, she hums, sighing heavily as she claps her hands together in a clasp.

“But that isn’t an excuse for me cheating, and I’m not _trying_ to excuse it. Yeah, I was going through shit, but I messed up, and that is entirely on me. I just… I just want you know that even though I realised I don’t have those feelings for you, I care about you so, so much, Mia, and given all of this, I— obviously, I want to be friends, but I’ll…” he clears his throat, taking a small breath of respite before saying, “I’ll understand if you don’t.”

He watches as the thoughts and emotions pass through her eyes in a fog. She bites her full lips into a thin line, chewing on the bottom one as she continues to fiddle with the ring on her finger. Victor almost wonders whether she is going to say anything at all before slowly, the words start to come, low and heavy with severity. “Victor… look, I appreciate that you tried, and I get this has been hard on you, and that you… you know, despite what happened, you had good intentions. But I’m going to need time before we can even think about going back to friends. This isn’t something I’m going to get over in one conversation. Seeing you with Benji after everything that’s happened the past weeks… i-it _broke_ me.” Her voice breaks and she presses the heel of her palm against her mouth, breath hissing past her hand in a shuddering staccato. “I’m…” she breathes in deeply, shoulders rising as she shakes her head. “I’m going to need time. Time away from you.”

He nods repeatedly, small and short and gradually lowering as his heart sags in his chest. “Completely understand”, he utters out through a broken cord, pushing past the regretful guilt that has lodged itself in his throat. “Yeah, no, of course, Mia. I’ll, um… I’ll show myself out.”

The column of her throat bobs in a gulp and she nods, gaze averted from his as Victor rises from the couch. Before he begins to walk toward the door, he faces her with sad and sorry eyes. “Again, I’m… I’m so sorry that I let things happen the way they did.”

“Yeah…” she sighs, a silent tear trailing down her cheek. “Me, too.”

Victor takes in a deep breath, hoping it will clear some of the blurriness of his own eyes before he steps toward the main hallway. Honestly… it could have gone a whole lot worse. He would say he expected it to go worse – he deserves worse – but it _is_ Mia. Wonderful, compassionate, sweet, funny, and loving Mia. Of course, she wouldn’t give him the worst; there’s too much good in her for that. Or maybe there’s just too much pre-existing pain. Whichever way it is, Victor should be grateful he got away relatively unscathed. But the hollowness that was once a spot that was filled by her aches within him, and he honestly wishes they weren’t parting like this. It feels too final, too indefinite.

Just as he is about to round the corner, he hears shuffling behind him, and promptly halts in his tracks, swinging around to se Mia rising to her feet. She wrings her hands and glances between him and the floor, cocking her head as she tilts a shoulder. “For the record, Victor, there’s definitely some stuff you need to pay attention to and fix.” She pauses, and he nods, because it’s true. Then, the smallest glimmer of a smile curves her lip. “But being gay isn’t one of them. Just… start paying attention to the fact that you _do_ know you’re gay.”

Victor cannot help it; he smiles too, almost grinning but not quite given the current mood, but she is just… so good. Pilar was right; she was way too good for him, even fake-straight him. _Especially_ fake-straight him. Hopefully Andrew knows the expectation he needs to meet. “Will do. I promise”, he replies in a slight choke. “I’ll, uh… I’ll see you ‘round, Mia.”

“See you, Victor.”

* * *

He feels lighter as he jogs home, and in Simon’s words, it feels as though he has ripped the big gay band-aid off. His skin is still prickling from the way his heart was practically vibrating inside him, but the breaths are undoubtedly flowing through him with a greater ease now. Due to this sudden invigorative burst of morning energy, he takes the long way home for a steady and soothing run.

It’s definitely not to avoid having to go home before his Dad leaves for work.

Nope. Not that at all.

He curves around a street corner and takes to the incline with pumping arms, panting as he pushes through the welcome burn in his calves. There’s a light sheen of sweat on his face and puddles more underneath his hoodie, and he sort of wishes he had taken it off before getting into a rhythm, but it’s a nonissue in the scheme of everything else, and he takes the mild discomfort with a Yung Gravy-driven step, brows furrowing in concentrated determination.

He moves through a park, dodging past couples and dog-walkers and young families underneath the flickering shadow of the leaves above, when the song dims in way for the chime of a text. Victor slows to an easier jog, but doesn’t stop, as he pulls his phone from his pocket and glances down at it.

**_MESSAGES: Now_ **

**_Benji Campbell_ **

_Good morning x_

_So… has the house imploded yet_ _😬_

Victor snorts at both the message and his fluttering heart, rolling his eyes as he unlocks his phone, going into his text messages, onto Benji’s contact and clicking the little phone icon.

The tone doesn’t ring more than twice before it stops abruptly and shifts to the groggy morning voice that goes straight down to Victor’s core and hits him like a freight train. “ _Mm…_ Christ, Victor, I hope you know I’m barely awake right now. Barista needs his brain juice before he can function, and I ain’t had it yet.”

“U-um, yeah, I—I can tell”, Victor manages out amidst his panting.

“Are you… are you good? You sound out of breath.”

“Oh, yeah, uh”, he pauses, clearing his throat as he pushes forward in his run, “Just out for a… out for a jog, at the moment.”

“ _Oo_ , right on”, Benji’s husky voice speaks into his ears, and Victor nearly dies. “Look at you, Mr Motivated. Oh crap, you know what? That reminds me, I need to do a workout later. I drank _way_ too much punch last night.”

Victor’s brain so helpfully reminds him of the one time he’d seen Benji shirtless, and presents a wonderful montage of him doing push-ups, squats and pull-ups, muscles flexing, light-brown eyes narrowed fiercely in concentration, teeth gritted as he goes through the motions.

_‘Holy freaking shit, I am so gay.’_

Victor swallows and shoves the thoughts back into the pigeonhole in the far corner of his mind. “Yeah, well… actually, it was uh… I went to Mia’s and… we talked.”

“Oh shoot,” Benji shuffles around on the line, and it sounds as though he’s sitting up. “That’s… woah, how’d that go?”

“Better than it should’ve”, Victor chuckles ruefully, lungs heaving as he slows to a walk upon coming out of the park.

There’s a soft tongue-click, followed by, “Victor…”

“No, she had every right to be mad at me.” He looks both ways, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie before crossing the road. “She had every right to be mad, and scream, and cry and curse me out but… she didn’t. Which actually might’ve been worse…” he adds in a grumble under his breath, “but, I told her everything and she just… took it. She took it and was way too understanding for someone who pulled all that shit on her. She was just… we’re taking time away from each other so she can process everything and then one day, if she feels comfortable, we’ll be friends again. But I told her if she never wanted to speak to me again, I’d understand, and do you know what she said?”

“What?” Benji’s voice is attentive and gentle.

“She said that I had some issues to work through and fix – which, I mean, she’s not wrong – but she said being gay wasn’t one of them. She just told me to start owning it.”

“…Well, damn.”

Victor chuckles lightly at that, smiling at the sidewalk as he strolls down it. “Yeah. I wanted to hug her for that, but thought it best not to.”

“That girl… all I’m gonna say is that the guys who _actually_ like girls had better step up their game.”

“Damn straight.” He begins walking up the steps of his apartment complex, pausing mid-rise to frown. “Uh… the pun was unintended.”

“‘Twas appreciated, nonetheless”, Benji replies, and Victor can hear his grin. “Back to my text from before, though… how was the family this morning?”

Victor winces as he unlocks the main door and starts walking toward the inner staircase, voice going up two octaves as he says, “Um… I didn’t really hang around long enough to find out?”

There’s a pause that follows before Benji speaks up again, and when he does, he sounds all too alert and all too understanding. “You can’t avoid them forever, Vic…”

“I mean… I can try?” he laughs sheepishly, voice lowering as he nears his level.

Benji sighs, but some seconds pass before he speaks again. “I get how terrifying it is, but _please_ , trust me on this – you continue to play keep-away with yourself and the consequences are gonna be horrible. Given all the tension in your family right now, I honestly think the best thing you can do is just sit down and have a calm conversation with your mom and dad and explain where you’re coming from… I mean, that’s just my two cents, though. Obviously, the choice is yours. I just… I don’t want you to have to deal with the same stress I did.”

“No, no, thank you, Benji”, he says softly, pulling the microphone-less earphone out as he lowers his voice. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate you being here for me like this. I’m um… I’m actually nearly at the door to the apartment, now. Talking with Mia… it really helped put things in perspective, so… I’m gonna try talk with Mom before she starts her piano lessons.”

“Are you ready for that conversation? I know what I just said, but don’t rush into it if you aren’t ready.”

“I…” Victor pauses, eyes skiting toward the door before him. Slowly, he smiles and lets out a gentle sigh. “I think I am. Yeah… I am.”

“Okay”, Benji says softly and with a voice that shines with pride. “I believe in you, remember that.”

Victor feels his entire face light up as he replies with an equally quietly calm tone, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Let me know how it goes afterwards, okay? If you’re up to it, we can head out for a coffee after, too.”

“A coffee?” He snorts, mindful of the possible prying ears beyond the door. “Aren’t you sick of it at this point?”

“Surprisingly, no. It’s actually like… the more I’m around it, the more I want it. Weird, right?”

“I mean, caffeine is _literally_ addictive, so no, not really.”

“Wow, okay then, smart guy; thanks for mansplaining me”, Benji chuckles. “You got a better plan?”

It doesn’t take long to come up with a supplementary idea, but Victor hums and taps his chin in contemplation just to listen to Benji sigh exasperatedly on the line. Then, he snorts, looking down at his shoe as he scuffs it on the carpet. “How about… meatballs?”

The wait is worth it for the way that Benji bursts into a quick bout of laughter. “So ugly…”

“But _so_ delicious.”

They both laugh at that, and Victor leans against the wall beside the door as he just soaks in the sound of Benji’s blissful chuckles. In the most inexplicable way, his heart has stopped ramming against his ribcage in an attempt to drag him away from the shitty place that is his home and toward literally anywhere else. Now, it’s just quietly humming along to the musical cadence of Benji.

“Well”, Benji finally says once he stops laughing, “Good luck in there. You have _got_ this.”

“I’ve got this. I’ll call you afterwards and tell you how it went.”

“Awesome. You’ll be fine, Victor. Your mom loves you so much.”

His eyes shift toward the door, and he gulps. “Yeah… yeah, she does… Alright, well, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Bye Victor.”

“See you, Benji.”

Nerves of the impending force Victor to end the call without another glance, and he pockets it quickly. His eyes close, and he envisions the best of what could come. Hope is what is going to get him through this, and he is going to hang onto hope like it is the last tendril of a breaking rope.

Without the chance of another cautious thought, Victor grits his teeth and his will, turns the knob, and steps inside the house and into the unknown fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as an australian, i am deeply intrigued by cinnamon toast and would LOVE to try it
> 
> sorry this chapter took so long! i had a friend over and we binged the entire show again in two sittings :DD she loves it now  
> \- come chat with me on tumblr ! my pseud is bravebatgirl -  
> ~ also, ive made a venji edit that i'll be posting on instagram -- find it under @bravebatgxrl ~
> 
> again, I LIVE FOR COMMENTS AND KUDOS UWU <3


	4. Change Right Next to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor gets home and prepares himself to have one of the most terrifying conversations about his coming out yet -- with his mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY ITS BEEN LIKE A WEEK  
> i hit major writers block and am also trying to get another job so my brain has been like a shrivelled sultana   
> chapter title from Grow as We by Ben Platt
> 
> hope yall like this chapter! it hit very close to home while i was writing it <3

Victor barely gets a foot through the door before he hears it, and the panic immediately floods his system in a torrent of fight or flight.

“Maybe the separation was too much and he’s just… looking for something that’ll make us come together to address as a united front. Something to grab our attention and bring us back together.”

“Possibly, but… _oh_ , I don’t know, Mando. Does that really sound like something Victor would do?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, this _entire_ family is doing stuff I never thought any of us would be capable of.”

“That’s low and you know it.”

“Is it though? This all started with you cheating, after all, Isabel, and then Pilar has gone and pierced her tongue and now Victor with this… whatever this is.”

“I have and will continue to take full responsibility for my actions – so don’t make this about me, ey? This is about our son.”

“Yeah, our son who thinks he’s gay, for some reason…”

Victor holds himself back for a moment from stepping toward the living room where the troubled voices of his parents filter through. Despite everything he had told Benji, adding depth to his initial coming out with his mother was a _terrifying_ reality that he was still tentative to fully realise. He knows she loves him, and while he would never admit it to Pilar, he knows he’s her golden boy. Whether or not that fact plays to his advantage is entirely dependent on how calmly and effectively he communicates with her in this conversation.

And as much as he loves him, his dad was _not_ supposed to be here. That’s something he needs to work up to, and his mom is the steppingstone.

Talking to both his parents at the same time is like passing a first-grade presentation before being directly slammed into a tenth-grade essay.

He just thanks God that his _Abuelo_ and _Abuela_ aren’t here too. Now that would be like sitting his SATs all at once.

Completely paralysed within the conversation ahead of him, Victor forgets the door behind him and neglects to close it quietly. Subsequently, it shuts with an unfortunately loud click, and the conversation halts.

_‘Ahahah… I’m in danger.’_

“Pilar?” comes the voice of his mother, “Back so soon from ice-cream?”

Victor breathes in deep and slow, eyes fluttering shut as his heart begins to ricochet around his chest. As he holds the air in his lungs, his eyes slide open and he looks ahead with as much fortitude as he can muster. No avoiding it now.

He releases the sigh and begins slowly stepping toward the awaiting confrontation. “No, _Mami_ …” he breathes out as he emerges from behind the hallway wall, gaze firmly held to his parents as their faces open in mild shock, “it’s me.”

“Victor…” his mother utters, mouth agape as she looks up at her son. After a moment of weighted silence, she shifts in her seat on the couch to face him directly. “Um, thought you had work, _mijo._ ”

It doesn’t go unnoticed how his father keeps his gaze firmly averted.

He swallows past the anxiety and meets Isabel’s eyes directly. “I, uh… turns out I got the day wrong. Ended up staying there for a coffee.”

Her brows lift and she stiffly nods. “Ah… okay.”

The beat of awkward silence that follows makes Victor want to scream into the void. He pulls at the cuff of his hoodie, directing his focus to that and controlling his breathing so he doesn’t lapse into hyperventilating.

When had his wonderful, beloved family dissolved into this sticky mess of an inability to communicate?

A throat clearing in front of him shakes him from his centralised attention to see Armando rising from the couch, eyes distant as they focus on his wife. “Well, I _do_ have work, so I better get to it. We’ll talk later.”

As he begins walking off, Isabel cocks her head in a tired sigh. “Armando…”

“Later”, he demands with lift of his hand. “We’ll just… later, alright?”

He releases a long-suffering sigh, eyes flickering toward Victor for the smallest second before they flinch away, as if he’s afraid of being burned by what lies within them. He skirts around his son with quick, assertive strides and reaches the door, grabbing a jacket from the hook and his keys from the console table.

Without really thinking, Victor takes a step after him. “ _Papi,_ I’m—”

“Be back after five”, he says upon wrenching the door open, stepping quickly through and slamming it abruptly behind him, and it sends a jolt through Victor that seizes around his heart. For a moment of dawning despondency, all he can do is stare at the door and bite his lip.

Coming out was a weighted risk – he knew that very well when he said those words last night – but he knew if he had kept that weight on his shoulders any longer, the damage would have been relentless and severe. He _had_ to come out last night… no matter the repercussions he feared would unfold.

And now that they are, Victor stupidly wonders what it would be like if his parents were still blissfully ignorant. If he had been able to keep up a front and keep on pretending; if he could have lived out this false life for however many more days, months or years until he either felt safe in acceptance or secure in his own independence. It’s completely wishful thinking, and he knows that there would’ve been a fallout either way.

It was a lose-lose situation either way.

“Victor?”

His mother’s voice crawls through the shell around his grey world, and taking in a deep breath, he pivots to face her. Her eyes are wide and open, but she looks guarded, closed off, which is exactly the mode that Victor feels like going into. His eyes flicker down as he swallows before plucking his courage by the reins and ripping it toward his fear.

_‘Come on… you promised yourself. No more lies.’_

With that, he steps toward her, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. One of them wraps around his phone and grips it like a lifeline.

“Hey Mom”, he murmurs out, head ducked as his eyes flit to her and down. With a jut of his head, he vaguely gestures to the couch. “Mind if I sit? I… I wanna talk about some things.”

“No, no, of course, come”, his mother’s words rush out in a breath as she shifts over. Her smile is tight-lipped and entirely strained as she pats the seat beside her. He takes a slow, deep, and exceptionally long breath in before moving toward her. As he sits, he makes sure there’s a decent distance between them – not too far as to be defensive, but not too close as to be open. The possibility of rejection looms too greatly in his periphery, and he loves his mother more than anyone or anything on this planet to even entertain what would happen if she turned from him. By God’s name, if he does or says something to cause that, he will never forgive himself.

He wants to be able to be proud and tall no matter what she has to say about his sexuality, but he’s also sixteen, and she is his mother. If it comes down to it, he’s not sure if he could make the choice between being himself and having her love.

Nevertheless, he made that promise to himself, and he won’t know what his mother thinks unless they have this conversation.

This terse… uncomfortable… awkward… terrifying conversation.

Fun times.

His jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth together, removing his hands from his pockets to wring them together. His mother feels frighteningly still on the couch beside him, tentative and tuned in to every minute action of his, and Victor feels the lens of her microscope sharpen in scale.

_‘Come on. You’ve already ripped the band-aid off – this is just the antiseptic.’_

“So…” he begins shakily, eyes glued to his hands, “I, uh… I wanted to talk to you about what I said last night.”

“… I did guess that.” She nods quietly in response, face contorted in an indiscernible emotion. Victor has bitten his lip so much at this point, he won’t be surprised if he wakes with an ulcer tomorrow. A beat passes before she slowly sighs, shifting on the couch to angle her body toward his. “Look… Victor, with what you said—”

“Can I say something first? Please?”

She looks at him, eyes darting between his, before nodding. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“I, um… I’m sorry if it seemed out of nowhere, and I didn’t mean to take away from what you and Dad, you know… separating, but I… I’m not sorry for saying it. Because I meant it, and… I didn’t want to lie. To you guys, or to myself.” He hates how choked his voice sounds, and he works to control his breathing. His head shakes in small repetitions. “Not anymore.”

His mother says nothing in a silent prompt for him to continue. That or she simply has no words.

Inhaling through his nose, he soldiers through. “I’ve been questioning for a while… long before we moved here, and I thought for a while, you know, maybe I wasn’t… wasn’t gay”, he forces the word out, all too aware of how his mother sucks in a breath at the drop of it. “But… in the past few months, it’s become clear to me who I am and what I want. And this isn’t a phase, and I know it isn’t because for so long I’ve felt like… like I was pretending and just… _so_ anxious all the time, just wanting to fit in and be this, you know, perfect son. I wanted to make you and _Papi_ proud, and I thought I could do that if I was a certain way, and it’d be fine to do that even if I felt like I was walking on eggshells the entire time. I didn’t really know who I was, but fitting into a mould seemed like the best thing to do. But I know now, and I feel… I feel like me. I don’t think I’ve ever really felt as me as I do now.” Slowly, his eyes shift toward her as he says, “A-and you’re probably wondering about Mia…”

Her lips are pursed as she nods. “I definitely have a few questions I would like answered.”

“Ask—ask away”, he invites with a wave of his hand, quelling his nerves with a firm shove of his courage.

For a moment, she says nothing, and Victor briefly wonders if she has anything to say at all. Then, slim, gentle hands wrap around his own busied ones, melting them within their touch. The contact snaps Victor’s gaze to his mother’s, and his mouth pops open in a small ‘o’ to see them glistening. She squeezes his hands firmly as she whispers out, “But you don’t have to answer them now.”

Victor can only watch on in shock and anticipation as he breathes out, “ _Mami?”_

She sucks in a breath through her nose and it whistles slightly as she shakes her head and breathes it out. “May I say some things now?”

Words fail him in that moment, so all he can do is nod, stiff and uncertain; preemptive and wary in the haziness of what’s to come.

She glances down at their hands, still held firmly within one another, and drags her thumbs over the back of his slightly darker ones, brushing over the knuckles in a somehow soft but simultaneously firm pressure. It presents as a loving and tender gesture, one of comfort, but Victor knows better than to automatically buy into it. In all his research over the past few months, he’s stumbled across many a coming-out story on YouTube where the parents did things out of love, like sending them to a priest or conversion therapy.

He knows his mom is a good person, and that she loves him, but he would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t anxious of what that love may lead her to do or say.

Isabel continues to rub his hands, biting her lips into a thin line as she gently sways side to side on the couch, like a tree in the wind. “Victor… I don’t quite understand what you’ve been going through that has led to this, or… _ay mios”,_ she chuckles wryly, looking up to beyond the ceiling in a pleading expression, lips moving fractionally in a silent prayer. When she looks back down, her smile is quivering. “Growing up, I knew of this one classmate of mine. Katherine Montoya: I remember that she had a—a bob-cut and _always_ cuffed her jeans”, she snorts lightly through her nose, smiling softly in the memory. “We were in the same music class for about three years in high-school, and I can remember hearing these… whispers about her. These names that I didn’t really understand. Dyke, switch hitter, _bollera_ from the other Latina girls. I-I didn’t know what they meant, but I knew they weren’t nice. I didn’t really know her that well so, I would keep to my friends and leave her to it. I didn’t think it was my business.”

Her jaw clenches and she glances to the side, eyes lowered and dark. “We graduated and I married your father, and it was about two weeks after my twentieth birthday that I got a call from one of my friends and…” she trails off, swallowing heavily as her voice grates, “and she said ‘Isa, have you heard?’ And I said, ‘Heard what?’… and then she said 'Kath Montoya. They found her body in Lake Ray Hubbard. She’s dead.’”

Captivating horror drives Victor to keep listening as his mother continues.

“For a few weeks, it was the thing that brought our cohort back together. For a… reunion of conspiracy theories. ‘She fell’, ‘it was a suicide’, ‘gangs got to her’ – the list goes on… All I could think about, though, was how at her memorial, her family, save her younger brother, was nowhere to be seen, and no one but him seemed to be truly upset by her passing. When her casket went down, I heard one of the boys mutter under his breath, ‘Have fun in hell, faggot’… and I—I had no words. But…” she sniffs, tears gathering in her eyes as she tries to blink them away, “but I told myself that if I ever, _ever_ , saw something like that again, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes.”

She grips his hands so firmly in hers as though he’s hanging out a cliff-face. “I’m not going to pretend I understand, because I don’t. I have no idea what you must have gone through to come to this point, to this realisation about yourself, but if this is who you truly believe you are, then I will try to understand. I will make the effort to understand. If this who you feel you are in your soul”, she utters barely above a breath, “then I accept it, and I love you for it.”

“M-mom?”

“I love you, _mi amor_. You are my son and I will _always_ stand by your side, okay? I will support you through everything, even if the rest of the world is against you. I need you to know that.” One of her hands leaves his to rest upon his cheek, swiping away at a tear that Victor didn’t even realise was there. “You are my rock, and I am so thankful for the strength God has given you, but you’re also my baby, and you always will be, and heaven help _anyone_ who hurts my baby. Nothing, and I mean _nothing,_ could ever change that.”

Victor releases a breath that had been held for so long, his lungs collapse in relief and his face splits into a beaming grin. “ _Gracias, Mami. Mil gracias.”_

His mother whimpers out a sigh and she reaches around behind his neck and pulls her into him, and they dissolve into the embrace. She brushes one hand over his head and rubs at his back, movement fanning in circles. “Don’t thank me, _mijo_ , p-please. Thank _you_ for finding the courage to tell us, and I’m sorry if I ever said anything that made you feel as though you couldn’t.”

Victor smiles into her shoulder as he buries into it. _“Te quiero, Mami.”_

 _“Te quiero con todo mi corazón.”_ She continues to rub his back in contented silence, and Victor relishes in the overwhelming peace his steady heart feels. “Also, Jesus loves you, too.”

Victor openly chuckles at that, laughing as he starts to pull back from his mother. “Doesn’t the bible say otherwise?”

“ _Ey,_ that’s the same book that also says slavery is good and eating shellfish is a sin, so whoever wrote Leviticus is cancelled, in my eyes.”

He snorts. “I just— I can’t believe you’re using cancel culture against a biblical author. I’m here for it, don’t get me wrong, but… oh my God.”

“As I said, anyone who says or does anything against my _chiquito_ will _suffer my wrath_ ”, she hisses in a mockingly threatening voice, raising her hands like unsheathed claws and growling. They laugh for a moment, and it’s light and airy and transcendent, and Victor can hardly believe this phenomenal euphoria is actually happening. He half expects to wake up and have walk into cold stares and harsh words, but he doesn’t.

Until he remembers that is still half of his reality.

Shoulders drooping, he pulls away slightly further. “Um… what, uh… what about Dad?”

His mother sighs, shifting so she is leaning into the couch and opens her arms. Victor nestles into her side – albeit awkwardly, given the fact he’s no longer seven years old and has a good half-foot in height on her – and she begins to rub his shoulder. “Your father… he loves you very much, which you know. And nothing will change that either. But you know what your _Abuelo_ and _Abuela_ are like… That’s the upbringing he had.” Her voice is soft and sober, speaking these rigid truths into the air like a gentle breeze. “And you know… he’s trying. We talked before and I tell you honestly and truly that he’s trying. But it will take him some time, _mi lindo_. This is something that he never planned for – that _we_ never planned for – and I think he needs to… digest it first. I wish he could be completely understanding from the start and say that nothing has changed, but the truth is it has. _You_ haven’t changed – you’ve just finally felt comfortable in who you are, and I’m proud you are, truly – but this is still new to him. To us. And as I said, this is something that I will one hundred percent support you in, but I will need guidance, because I won’t always know the right thing to say, and I won’t always be comfortable in knowing the right way to be there for you.”

It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but he understands why he needs to. As wonderful as the colours of queer pride are, the reason they stand there so bright and so blindingly bold is to give courage when everything seems undeterrably grey and despondent.

“I just want you know that you can always talk to me, and I can’t promise I will say the right thing or react the right way”, she confesses in an awkward chuckle, “but I will be there for you. And in time, so will your _Papi_. I know it.”

“Yeah…” he nods after a moment, small but understanding. “Okay.”

“Do you have other people you can talk to about this? I would feel horrible if all you have is me and my cluelessness.” Her brows furrow and she hums. “I should do some research into this.”

He chuckles breathily, feeling the heat rise on his cheeks. “Yeah, uh, actually… do you remember Benji from my party?”

“The uh… the shorter boy, right? The one you work with. Had—” she gestures vaguely around her head, “—had the light brown Leonardo Decaprio-looking hair?”

“What?” he chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down. “Um, yeah, that’s him, I guess. Well, you know, there was the whole thing with him kissing his boyfriend here.”

“Yes… I do remember that. Are you close enough to confide in them?”

“Yeah, well, um… so he and his boyfriend actually broke up”, he trails off, biting his lips into a thin line while nodding slowly and deliberately. “So, it’s really only Benji that I talk to. And he’s great, he really is… And well, there is also this guy who graduated a few years ago named Simon Spier, and I heard about his coming out story through a teacher and I… kinda ranted to him on Instagram?”

“…I don’t know how I feel about you talking to strangers on the internet”, his mother admits with a terse expression.

_‘Good thing you don’t know about New York, then, and you will never know.’_

He chuckles abashedly, reaching a hand to scratch behind his neck. “Yeah, I know, but he’s cool, Mom. He’s actually been… really good to confide in. Our stories are nothing alike, but he was awesome in making me like I… like I wasn’t alone. When I was trying to fit in and ignore that part, he reminded that it was okay to be like that and that it’s actually something to be proud of”, he finishes softly.

Her eyes narrow, but there’s mirth laced into the steely suspicion. “I don’t have to worry about this Simon Spier, do I?”

“No, no, trust me.” Victor waves his hands frantically, pushing past the thought with a barely concealed cringe. “He is _definitely_ not my type – he’s more like an older brother, so… ew, no. Also, he has a boyfriend and they both live in New York.”

“ _Ah,_ I see…” she says with a quiet smile. “Well, I’m glad you’ve had someone like that to talk to. And again, I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t talk to me.” Victor shrugs. Something flits over his mother’s face and she crosses a leg over. “I’m curious now, though, what _is_ your type?”

He groans, shifting out of her arms. “Mom, no, can we not?”

“Oh, come on, I was never great with girl talk, but boys? _That’s_ something I can understand.”

“Mom.”

“Is there a boy at school? It’s not Felix, is it? I think he’s great, and he’s been an amazing friend, but I don’t know if I can keep up with that level of energy.”

“Mom, we’re not doing this.”

“Victor, _por favor_.”

“No”, he chuckles out, groaning into his hand. “Don’t be weird.”

“I’m your mom; it’s kind of my job to be weird about this sort of thing.”

“Oh my God, I should have just stayed in the closet.”

“Hey, no, no, no, no”, she finally chuckles, reaching to pull his hands away from his face. “Serious now. I’m glad you didn’t. You are not to hide this part of yourself any longer, okay?”

He nods, exhaling sharply through his nose as he smiles. “Okay. Can we please just… take it slow, though? I really appreciate how much you’re trying but, you know…”

“Too much at once?” she says with a wince. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I really don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Victor laughs at that, then covers her hands with his own. “But you’re trying, and that’s what matters. But yeah, just… tone the Salazar Spirit down a bit.”

“Got it”, she agrees with a deep nod of her head. Her eyes roam over his face, smile dawning on her softened features as she continues to take in her son. “My beautiful boy…” she coos, taking his face in her hands once more, “God really gave me an angel.”

Victor smiles, eyes fluttering closed as his mother guides his forehead to her lips. “I love you more than the sun shines.”

“I love you too, _Mami.”_

“Wait, your favourite kid wants cuddles, too!”

The two turn toward the voice to see Adrian coming full throttle through the door, shoving his way past an affronted Pilar to bomb-dive onto the couch in between Victor and Isabel. A flurry of elbows and knees stick into them, and Isabel pulls away in a wincing laugh as Victor grabs his younger brother underneath his arms and pins his back to his chest in a bone-crushing hug. “What about your big bro, huh? What about _my_ cuddles?”

“Victor, let me go!” he screams through his writhing, all attempt to escape made redundant by his uncontrollable laughter.

“ _Nooooo —_ I’m Prince Hans, and I’ve caught you in my trap. You cannot hope to escape.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Hans, because my sister will save me.” As he wriggles in Victor’s grasp, Adrian turns his head toward where Pilar is watching with a crooked smile. “Pilar! I mean, Anna! Anna, get my wand! I need you to freeze Hans and save me!”

Isabel laughs at her children, head shaking as her eyes flit toward her daughter. “Princess Anna, just how much ice-cream did you let your brother eat?”

“Don’t blame this on me”, Pilar scoffs, raising her hands placatingly as she casually turns to fetch the Elsa wand from the top of the piano. “I swear he got one scoop. Didn’t even get the cone; I have no idea where this energy comes from.”

“He got given your share of enthusiasm after it skipped you”, Victor jabs with a grin, eyes glinting in quiet mischief as his sister deadpans him.

Her mouth drops open as her eyes narrow coldly, lip quirking at the edges as her brow does. Suddenly, she steps toward her brother, wand held threateningly in front of her as she shifts into a power pose. “Let go of the gremlin.”

“Never”, Victor hisses out, barely keeping the smile off his face.

“Don’t force my hand, Hans.” She cocks her head and steps closer. “I _will_ do it. I will do it and you will have to make and pay for my coffee for a week.”

“This is blackmail. Mom, you’re hearing her blackmailing right now, right?”

“I’m not here, Prince Hans. I am simply snow in the background.”

In his arms, Adrian stills at the words and gasps. “Top Ten Anime Betrayals.”

Victor takes the opportunity to jump to his feet, swinging his dangling brother side to side for a moment before letting him naturally drop to his feet with a grunt. “Okay, you little nerdy Elsa, go get your wand. I’ve got some stuff to get to anyway.”

Pilar looks up and her eyes find his, brows furrowing over as she mouths, ‘Mia?’

Victor merely raises a thumb in time with a tight-lipped smile in confirmation. That seems to lighten Pilar’s perpetually sour state, and she smiles back at him, big brown eyes shining bright and proud. He takes solace in her pride, and flashes her a more assured upturn of his lips before leaning down to kiss his mother’s cheek. “I’m gonna go shower. Feeling a bit gross and sweaty after running.”

“Sounds like an excellent idea, _mijo_.” Isabel beams up at her son. “No stinking up this house, thank you very much.”

He chuckles lightly at that, bestowing her with one last smile as he starts toward the hallway. Simon’s words from last night ring like a church bell in his ears – ‘ _You get to exhale’ –_ and Victor truly understands what he means. Telling his parents had been just about the most daunting thing he’d ever had to do, but hearing those words from his mother, hearing that she still loves and accepts him, had provided more comfort than he’d ever thought possible. It feels like gravity has disappeared entirely and he’s now just floating toward his room, steps and spirit lighter than they’ve been in… a long, long time.

As he pulls on the doorknob to his room, his phone pings from his pocket. Pausing, he reaches for it and whips it open, immediately scoffing a smile at the awaiting text message.

**_Felix Weston_ **

**_-Today 10:02am-_ **

_Dude, whered u disappear to last night? You missed the most AMAZING UNBELIEVABLE SHOWSTOPPING THING EVER_

Victor rolls his eyes, stepping into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him with his foot as he types out a response.

_Morning to you too, buddy. Lol._

_Oop sorry! MORNIN TO YE. Okay, back to what I was saying – where were uuuuuu_

_Um… I left early cos shit went down with Mia. She found out, and not in the best way._

_Oh shit… what happened_

_i… kinda kissed Benji again. And she saw it happen..._

_Victorrrrr_ _😫_

_Yeah… it was pretty messy. I just got back from her place. Talked things out, explained everything._

_Yikes… poor Mia_

_Poor you_

_POOR BOTH OF YOU, THIS SUCKS. Im so sorry, man_

_Yeah… she was so good about it, though. Probably TOO good about it. I feel terrible_

_I’d come down and give you a hug myself but uh… I’m not home, so sending a virtual hug!_

_Where are you?_

_Brasstown. Getting breakfast with my sweetie_ _🥰_

_Wait but I thought—_

_Wait… did something happen with Lake?_ _👀_

_Maybeeee *waggles eyebrows*_

_Details. Now._

_It was more romantic than anything from my novel… since you and mia weren’t there to accept spring fling king (say that five times fast) or queen, lake went up to get it on both your behalf._

_Oh btw, you won spring fling king_

_Got it buddy, thank you_

_Anywayssss, lake went up to get Mia’s and she invited y o u r s t r u l y up to receive yours. She did this little speech about how I make her happy, and victor, I am genuinely a man in love._

_Awww. That’s adorable! Im glad she’s finally appreciating you as she should._

He sits down on the bed, typing away with a quiet smile before dots connect and his pulse suddenly surges in panic.

_Um… question – she can’t see my messages right now, can she?_

_Oh no, don’t stress. im currently in the toilet. Couldn’t wait any longer to text you all the juicy deets._

_Omfg, TMI, Felix. Get off the toilet and get back to LAKE_

_I’m going, trust me! Just had to tell you!_

_Thank you for telling me, and Im glad youre happy. You won’t tell her about Mia, right?_

_Of course not. Not my secret to tell, so I’ll keep mum. Scout’s promise._

_You’re not a scout lol_

_It’s the sentiment, victor_ _😩_

_Hahaha. Well, thank you. I appreciate it a lot._

_Of course, dude. I got your back._

_Oh quick q though, how did Benji react to the kiss?_

Victor glances up, biting his cheek in a smile as he reflects on last night. The certainty, the coming-home, the way it felt like the pieces finally slot together after sixteen years of blindly fumbling.

_Actually… a lot better than last time…_ _😊_

_UM_

_VICTOR SALAZAR_

_I HOPE YOU ARE GONNA GIVE ME MORE THAN THAT_

Chuckling at Felix’s vehemence, Victor starts to type out a purposefully allusive response before his phone vibrates within his hand and a banner drops down, causing his heart to flutter like hummingbird.

**_MESSAGES_ **

**_Benji Campbell_ **

_Hey, two shots of espresso later and I’m officially awake now x_

_Howd the talk with your mom go?_

The grin forms unbidden on his face, and he quickly fashions a message to Felix along the lines of ‘I promise I’ll tell you everything later, but right now I got to go’. He then clicks over to Benji’s contact and sighs in elation, heart feeling fluffy and light as he replies.

**_Benji Campbell_ **

_Oh my god he’s aliveeeee_

_and honestly it was… it was amazing. It was everything I could’ve hoped for and more._

_I was so scared of how she would react, but she hugged me and just kept telling me how much she loves me. It was surprising, but in a good way. In the best way._

_Victor… I’m so happy for you. Being accepted by the people we love shouldn’t even be an issue, but I’m so glad your mom is – you deserve that at the very least._

_Any idea about your dad, though?_

The words deliver an unintentionally sharp reminder and Victor heaves a sigh, flopping back onto his bed. His head rolls to the side, and he looks at a family photo of them all on a picnic back in Texas. Victor swallows heavily, glancing away as he thinks about the day the photo was taken. It was a sweltering summer day, and their mother had packed the cooler with more ice than she had drinks. They’re all smiling up at the camera; Adrian is sneaking bunny ears up behind his father’s head, and Isabel is discreetly holding in her laughter with a flit of her eyes. It was a simpler time.

Looking back at his phone, he mulls over his words before typing again.

_Not too sure yet, but not exactly looking forward to that conversation when it comes…_

_Yeah, I get that._

And he knows he does.

_Are you still down for meatballs? I feel physically exhausted right now and could use a refill. Also, I think it’d be good to have a talk about everything that’s happened and you know… where we go from here?_

_I agree, and of course. Though meatballs at 10 in the morning feels a bit… strange lmao_

_It doesn’t have to be meatballs. Doesn’t even have to be food. I just…_

Victor’s heart beats steady and true in his chest, quivering in the anticipation of his next message.

_I wanna see you._

As soon as he presses send, Victor bites his thumbnail and feels his heart quicken. They literally kissed _last night_ – that’s too forward and corny, isn’t it? Benji isn’t even his boyfriend, yet.

‘Yet’ – the blush explodes on his face and groans into his hand.

He’s getting ahead of himself thinking about terms like ‘boyfriend’. He has no idea what he and Benji are. He really doesn’t know what he’s doing, but Benji makes him feel so much more than he ever could have fathomed to be possible. So much more in the fleeting moments, stolen glances, and barely twelve hours that they had realised their requited feelings than he did in the months of dating Mia. The gentle little butterflies are now those cacophonous fighter jets that roar and consume everything else in reality. It’s fresh, it’s exhilarating, and Victor wants to know everything there is about these new feelings, and being with Benji is the cornerstone of that wondrous expedition.

Still, Benji has not only been out for a good year, but has been in a gay relationship for the majority of that time, too. He’s experienced, he’s mature, and even though there’s only a year of difference between them, Victor worries that he’ll seem… too young. Too inexperienced. Too naïve.

He’s contemplating backtracking on his enthusiasm when a new message from Benji comes through.

_Honestly same_ _❤_ _️ I don’t know if that’s weird or cheesy or something, especially since I literally saw you last night, but… yeah. I wanna see you too_

Victor melts into the bed.

_It’s not cheesy, its really sweet. Or maybe it is, but then Im cheesy too, so_

_We can be cheesy together_ _🙌🧀_

The grin on Victor’s face has the power to split him right down the middle and leave him a gooey mess of feels on the floor. It’s so romantic and stupid and puppy love-esque, but it’s perfect and Victor wouldn’t change it for the world.

_You know what goes well with cheese?_

_Meatballs xD_

_Hahahaha ok ok, I got the message. Are you free to get some food now?_

_Definitely. Do you wanna meet up somewhere and then we can walk around trying to find some?_

_Sure thing. I have a suggestion, and bear with me, cos it’s a bit wild_

_…okay?_

_What if we met up…_

_At Brasstown?_

_Woahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh_

_You’re right, that is wild. Weirdest of places, I’m not even sure I know how to get there._

_Follow the sounds of a thirty-something-year-old woman screaming about over-bubbly frothed milk. You cant miss it_

_Lmao, sounds like a plan. 11 sound good?_

_Sounds perfect. Lets get you fed so you can shut up about these meatballs, jfc_

_But meatballs are sO ugly and SO delicious_

Victor’s thumbs hovers over the keyboard, twiddling aimlessly before he throws caution to the wind and tests out his next message.

_You want me to shut up about them, you gotta make me_

Benji’s reply has him inhaling sharply and bolting upright, tossing his phone to the side as he goes about madly scouring for his nicest jeans and a clean shirt, bundling them in his arms as he rushes to the bathroom.

_Don’t think I won’t_ _😘_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my homophobic parents have banned me from watching love victor on the tv, yet allow my 12yo brother to play GTA and watch extraction.  
> thanks, my bi ass hates it 👉🤩👉
> 
> sorry if this was pretty lacking in venji! -> next chapter will make up for it, i swear. but this one felt rlly important to write, and it took me a while to really dissect how the parents would react. they both love victor very much, and they want whats best for him, but generational influence is a bitch so. yeee. armando has some shit to get over first.
> 
> anyway, i love isabel and i wish my mum was like her 
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT THIS HAS RECEIVED AS WELL. EVERY LITTLE KUDOS AND COMMENT INSPIRES ME TO KEEP WRITING. my hEART = exploded  
> love you all


	5. Heart Made of Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's back at school... the first day since he came out...  
> Just what awaits within the walls of Creekwood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS BEEN TOO LONG SINCE I UPDATED AHHH  
> fr though, im so sorry guys. had a lot of family and friend stuff happen recently and i have not been in the mental state to write fanfic. all imma say is 2020 can suck it.
> 
> I just want to say a massive MASSIVE thank you for the lovely comments I got last chapter. What had been left as a little sidenote of laughable homophobic tendencies in the fam (nothing too extreme, thankfully) received such a keen attention and swarm of solidarity, and I TOTALLY DIDN’T CRY NO NOT AT ALL (tis a lie. I sobbed like a baby. It was embarrassing).  
> I absolutely adore the LGBTQ+ community with everything I have; you’re all such beautiful, accepting, incredible people and you deserve every happiness in life. Whether you’re gay, bi, pan, trans, ace, aro, demi, enby, certain of your sexuality or still figuring it out, know that you are so so loved and so perfect as you are. You are all vivid bright shining lights in the world, and your uniqueness brings beauty to the lives of those around you.  
> In the words of our favourite gay Sherpa, ‘we are family’.
> 
> chapter title from lovely by Billie Eilish & Khalid

Victor isn’t panicking.

He isn’t.

He is just hyperaware of every person’s wandering eyes and murmured words around him as he walks toward the gates of Creekwood High.

The brunt of his accidental and intentional coming-outs had been cloaked by the comfort of the weekend. Well, the comfort was mainly accredited to his hang-out with Benji. After feasting on the ugliest, cheapest, and semi-stale meatball subs they could find, they had taken a walk through the streets of Shady Creek, letting them feet carry them wherever as they talked quietly. Benji did well to keep the conversation light and spirited, and Victor smiled at the way the brunet’s eyes lit up like miniature supernovas as he spoke his plan for his music. Unable to see a future where he and Derek could work amicably, Benji said it was inevitable that the ‘band will soon _dis_ band’ – Victor rolled his eyes at the pun. The musical breakup paved a way for Benji to explore his career as a solo artist, and his entire aura shone as he raved over cover ideas, possibly incorporating digital artists like Felix, dabbling in different sounds, and Victor was ablaze with the infectious passion.

Occasionally, but not entirely on accident, their knuckles would brush as their hands hung between them. Whenever they did, Victor’s heart giggled in his chest. He’d let his linger for a moment, buzzing in the featherlight contact before someone would start walking toward them, and he’d promptly shove his hands back into his pockets.

When they’d paused to sit at a park bench, Victor had glanced down and muttered a quiet apology. Benji had just smiled, brows furrowed, and clapped him gently on the back – a perfectly platonic gesture.

“Just ‘cause you’ve started to come out now, doesn’t mean you have to do it all in one hit,” he whispered, casting his brown gaze out to the Shady Creek park before them. “If you’re not ready or you need more time, then that is _totally_ okay.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m ashamed or anything,” Victor mumbled. “‘Cause I’m not. I just… the basketball team, they’ve said things and I don’t _think_ they mean anything by them, but I… I don’t wanna find out just yet.”

“Of course.” Benji squeezed his shoulder before letting his hand fall away.

Victor recalls when he then breathed deeply before saying, “I think we should… take our time going into this as well. We’re both fresh out of relationships, and while our circumstances are… _crazy_ different, I just think… you know. Out of respect for Mia, and also just…”

“It’s okay.” Victor knows he tried to keep the hurt out of his voice, but it still seeped through the cracks of understanding. “I get what you’re saying. I think that’s a good idea, too.”

That didn’t mean it was all smooth sailing; sure, hanging out with Benji had been ethereal and brought him immeasurable hope for the future, but that event had been the calm eye of his storm.

As Sunday was Armando’s day off work, it had been filled with awkward silences and skittish footsteps. Victor had been torn between locking himself in his room to avoid conflict, to helping around the house in an attempt to appease his father, to going for another run straight toward Brasstown. Part of the quietly torturous day had been salvaged when Felix came knocking, and Coach Ford would have been astounded with the speed at which Victor flew out of the door.

For a couple of hours, it had been nothing but eccentric, energetic, and limited-brain-power-required fun. After Victor had given the three-sentence version of what happened since the formal, Felix, being the world’s best best-friend that he was, had refocused the topic of conversation faster than Pilar could go full angsty teenager. He had animatedly divulged the stage-worthy declaration from Lake, and how he planned to continue to positively reinvent his alias, Lonestone. Victor had quirked a grin and clapped him on the back. Upon incessant prodding, the young Latino spared a few broad details about his current… situationship with Benji. His best friend scorned for more, scouring for little titbits that Victor would slip up on.

“We _have_ to go on a double date. Felake and… Bector? Vinji? You know what? It’s a work in progress. Anyhoo, dude, we gotta. We simply _must_.”

“Appreciate the support, man, but _please_ slow down.”

“Noted, of course, of course. You guys go at whatever pace you need to. You’ll still be just as cute the entire time. Can I just say as well, I _never_ liked Derek. That guy just seriously rubbed me the wrong way, and it was like he had a stick perpetually shoved up his butt.”

“Felix,” Victor warned, smiling slightly.

He didn’t disagree, though.

When Victor had received a text from Pilar calling him home for dinner, Felix watched on as Victor’s face turned down and brought him into a hug, rubbing fervently at his back and whispering, “You need anything at all, you text me, got it?”

“I’ll just radio.” Victor smiled as the other boy’s arms tightened around him. “You know, for the whimsy.”

Dinner had been… a thing. A cosmically awkward thing that was like one giant sneeze that refused to leave the back of everyone’s throats. Armando situated himself as far as possible from his eldest, and it didn’t go unnoticed by anyone, from the looks of Isabel’s sad eyes, Pilar’s furious ones, and Adrian’s that sparkled in growing confusion. Victor had barely noticed – he’d been too tunnel-visioned on staring at his plate and gritting his jaw, wondering if the gracious Lord would take pity and suddenly give him crippling gastro. With everyone else still shocked into silence, Adrian silently decided to say grace for the family.

Victor gave him the biggest bone-crushing hug after the meal that had his little brother squirming, rasping out “Gerroff, can’t breathe.”

That was last night, where the only thing he’d had to worry about was the off chance his father deciding to broach their mutual cold shoulder and talk with him. Today, right now, as he walks up the stairs toward the glass doors of Creekwood, his heart is thundering so loudly in his ears, he’s certain the people around him can hear it. He controls his breathing into regularity as he pushes past familiar faces, torn between wanting to gauge their expressions and keep his own head down as long as possible.

By some chaotic and devious design, Mia had stumbled upon Victor and Benji’s kiss. It wasn’t that far-fetched that someone else may have been walking past and noticed, or halted around the corner for a drink or smoke, or hidden off in the trees to go beyond a brief make-out session. Likewise, someone could have _easily_ heard Benji’s admission of forgiveness and the context surrounding it, or Victor’s mad scramble after Andrew, or the impassioned declaration in front of Benji and Derek.

Have the walls always seemed that close together? Has Charlie suddenly gained breadth upon his pre-existing towering height? Have Victor’s lungs shrunk to the size of grapes and his heart transform into a hummingbird?

_‘Just breathe and get to your locker.’_

He pushes past the stares he swears are glued to his back and steps through the halls, sparing quick smiles when he hears passing comments of “Yooo, it’s the king!”, and “OMG, congrats on Friday, Victor!”

At least some people appear to be none the wiser.

Victor all but sighs into his locker when he swings it open, head falling forward as he catches his breath. Against his will, his hand clenches the locker door just a bit too tight. He has to pull himself together. He’s being dramatic – people either don’t know or they don’t care. It’s 2020 and there are bigger problems in the world for them to be obsessing over than just a sixteen-year-old gay kid cheating on his girlfriend. They’ve all got bigger problems of their own anyway, like stressing about whether an apple or banana has more saturated fat, or how the hell they’re going to memorise where all the components of a heart are.

 _‘Exactly, so you’re stressing over nothing,’_ he chides himself as he pulls out his textbooks for the first two periods, _‘Stop working yourself up before anything has even happened.’_

“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya!”

Victor flinches involuntarily. “ _Jesus_ fucking Christ…” He turns to see Felix’s Heath Ledger grin dissolve into a bemused sort of smirk. He shakes his head, swerving back around to hide his embarrassment as he resumes his previous task. “It is too early in the morning _and_ the year to be scaring the actual shit out of people, Felix.”

His friend’s brow lifts. “Actual?” Leaning back, he overtly takes a peek at Victor’s behind before shrugging. “I was gonna go with something more gay—” Victor’s head shoots up and he looks pointedly at a cluelessly well-meaning Felix “—from like, RuPaul, or Ellen, or Hamilton because let’s be honest, Laurens and Hamilton were _definitely_ a thing, but I’m starting to build up a reputation for my UK accents and really don’t wanna ruin the whole schtick I got going.”

Victor exhales, pinching his brow as he leans a shoulder into the edge of his locker, and mutters out, “Dude, please.”

Felix cocks his head, hair bouncing lightly in the movement. “You good? You seem really jumpy and just… out of it.”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… nah, you know, it’s all good. I’m just—just tired, I guess.”

“Mm, I’m gonna call bullshit based on whatever _that_ was.”

Victor snorts lightly but smiles at the boy swinging back and forth on his heels, hands stuffed into his pockets. Felix’s mouth twists into something akin to understanding. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Um…” Victor glances out and around at the bustling hallway, students laughing and talking and guzzling portable coffee cups like water. There’s so much overlapping conversation, he can barely recognise his own thoughts. He sighs. “I’m not gonna get into it all. Not here, but it’s just like… my Dad and stuff… He’s not exactly cool with… everything. Or, that’s what I’m assuming anyway, considering he hasn’t spoken a _single_ word to me since I told him.”

“God, I’m sorry, man. That’s really rough.”

Lips thinning into a line, he shrugs, glancing to the side. “It is what it is, I guess…”

A frown crosses Felix’s face. “Doesn’t make it any less shitty.”

“…Yeah.” Victor swallows convulsively. “Um… we should probably get to class. What’ve you got first?”

“English – oh… _shoot_ , I completely forgot about the homework! Mr Ryan is going to _kill_ me.”

“Just the worksheet on allegory in Animal Farm, right? I did most of it; I can send it to you, if you want.”

“Dude, for real?” At Victor’s amused nod, Felix sighs, head falling back as he clasps his hands together. “ _Ugh,_ you are a friggin’ lifesaver. I just have not been able to finish it. Orwell’s writing is… you know.”

“Yeah, I feel that. It’s kinda like he wrote with the knowledge that one day, some poor sophomores would have to study his novels some day and thought, ‘you know what? Might as well make them cry through it’.”

Felix snorts at that, shaking his head as they walk through the hallways. “Truer words were never spoken.”

Victor’s about to jut his head in affirmation, eyes lifting before they suddenly gravitate toward further down the hallway. Immediately, his entire being lifts and it feels like a bunch of tiny baby angels are singing in chorus around him as they lift him gently above the ground.

Felix’s voice pierces through his daydream like a harpoon. “Seriously, though, thanks so much. Down for burgers after school? I’ll shout you.”

“Uh,” he starts, words forming airily in his head as his eyes lock onto their target, “Yeah sounds good. I’ll, uh… I’ll see you for Drama, yeah?”

Felix’s eyes narrow in suspicion as they follow his own before lighting up, a knowing smirk coming across his face. “That you shall, good sir, that you shall. _Arrevaderci,_ Romeo _”,_ he finishes with a flourish of his hand and bow before straightening up and heading on his way, sparing one last exaggerated wink over his shoulder. Victor rolls his eyes but smiles at the theatrics. Then, he turns all his attention to its previous holder, the one that refuses to relinquish control over his heart.

Benji smiles quietly at him the whole way toward him, eyes tilting up as Victor comes to lean beside his locker, struggling to put a foot of difference between them. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” Victor murmurs back, chest going fuzzy and fingertips tingling. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, you know, same-old, same-old, dramatic school dances, hella romantics, and relationship drama galore.” They both snort lightly, rocking back and forth from each other. “I did have a _very_ awkward phone call with my boss, pleading to come back to work after I abruptly applied for a transfer.”

Victor’s heart flips over in his chest. “You… you’re coming back?”

The boy before him smiles bashfully, eyes glancing away before resting back in his again. “My reason for leaving is… kinda redundant now. Doesn’t really make sense to not come back. Plus, there’s this really cute guy that works there and I just _can’t_ seem to stay away from him.”

“Oh, really?” Victor quirks a brow, crossing his arms in front of him. “Cute guy, huh?”

“The cutest.” Benji’s eyes are positively sparkling in the flickering light of dodgy, and it takes all of Victor’s willpower to not disregard his fears entirely and kiss him full on the lips right there and then. He’s about to make some flirty comment when Benji shifts his stance and glances up with furrowed brows. “How did the rest of yours go, though?”

“It… you know, it went. It happened… Not much to be excited about.”

Benji sighs, hand coming up to grip at the strap of his satchel as he fixes Victor with a half-smile. “Your dad’ll come around. Mine was… less than thrilled at first, but given time…”

“It’ll never be the same,” Victor muttered with lowered eyes. “You said as much yourself.”

A beat of silence passes between them, fidgeting and awkward shuffling before Benji visibly perks up, words smiling through his voice, “What’ve you got first?”

“World History – Russian Revolution, here we come.”

“Nice,” Benji snorts as a quiet smile blossoms on his lips. “Um… Do you mind if I walk with you?”

Victor bites his lip to stop a grin from completely overriding his features, butting his shoulder into Benji’s as he pushes off the locker. “Escorting me to class, Benjamin? Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first?”

“Are you asking me out?” Benji says in a whisper, eyes flashing wide with mirth as his mouth pops open. “Like… on a _date_?”

“Maybe?” Victor’s glittering smile falters as a group of boys barge past them on their walk. His breath hitches when one glances back at them, and he steps a few inches to the side as he and Benji move. The way Benji deflates a fraction is thoroughly and completely noticed, and another brick of self-deprecation cements itself onto the fast-growing wall.

 _“I’m ready,”_ he had said on Friday night. Ready for what? Ready to say the words ‘I’m gay’, sure, but to who? The focus of that had largely been geared toward Mia, the reality had been a snap of bravery at his parents, but what about literally everyone else? He could count the amount of people that knew on two hands, and that was already stressful enough. There were over a thousand students at Creekwood… was he ready for every single one of them to know? Was he ready for the students and peers stemming from a myriad of upbringings, of morals, of beliefs, to be privy to the knowledge that Victor Salazar, varsity basketball player, the one guy who had been lucky enough to date Mia Brooks, was a flaming homosexual?

He doesn’t want to fear, to hide in the closet as he peeks through the shutters – and above everything, he wants to be able to grab Benji’s hand firmly within his own, swinging the clasped hands between them with a proud smirk on his face as he leans over to plant a kiss to the brunet’s temple – but… he also wants to belong. To fit in. He doesn’t like standing out, and unfortunately, that’s kind of the whole schtick with being an out and proud gay. Benji is, and he flourishes in the limelight, glowing underneath it with a charming smile and kind eyes. Benji has made being himself his own thing.

Victor just isn’t quite there yet.

He hates that Benji has to put a foot back in the closet for his sake, has to hide his feelings because Victor is too terrified to express his own. He hates that there’s nothing more that he can do under the bright lights of the Creekwood microscope than flash a short apologetic smile Benji’s way. He readily accepts the guilt that follows the other boy’s understanding, yet wry one.

* * *

“Okay, Mia won’t tell me anything, and neither will Felix, and I’m not here for that, so: the tea. Spill it, Victor.”

The sixteen-year-old practically jumps in the line as he waits for lunch. Sighing his spiked nerves away, he glances to his side and smiles tiredly. “Morning to you too, Lake.”

She scrunches up her face. “I said ‘good morning’ to you in third period, dummy. You know, before you sat beside Felix and didn’t so much as look Mia’s way once. Not even to give her subtle hearteyes or to send her… whatever it is that has you two giggling in Bio. Also, recess? You were literally nowhere to be seen. Um, why?”

Shifting on his feet, he takes a deep breath and prays for his heart to just calm the hell down, and says in a lowered voice, “I… well, Friday, during the formal, some stuff happened and Mia and I sort of broke up—”

_“You broke up?!”_

Heads spin toward them, eyes on Victor’s body like laser beams, sending his heart into arrythmia. He steps toward Lake with downcast eyes. “Lake, can you please, _please_ keep your voice down?”

She exhales sharply, shaking her head as she stares at Victor. “Not until you tell me what happened. If you hurt Mia in any way, shape or form—”

“C-can we go somewhere to talk…”

“Whatever you have to say, you can tell me here.” She crosses her arms, expression fierce and unyielding. More people are listening in now, and the dying chatter paves way for Victor’s pulse to slam against his ears.

Where the hell is Felix? Where is Pilar? Where is Benji?

“Lake, please. I promise I’ll tell you everything, but I just can’t do it here. Not with all these people staring,” he finishes in a breath under a whisper. “I-I just can’t.”

For a terrifying five seconds, all she does is glare full-on machetes at him. Then, she releases a short sigh, rolls her eyes, and unfurls her arms. “Fine. But we’re doing this now.”

“Sure, let’s just get out of here.”

He neglects his food tray to the side, stepping out of line and gesturing for the bewildered person behind him to take his place. Victor keeps his head bowed as they pass the whispers and stares, pace quickening with every step until he’s not quite racewalking out into corridor. He doesn’t hear Lake’s protest in his outrageous speed until he finds an empty classroom with the lights off and opens the door, waiting for the blonde to follow him in before shutting it with shaky breaths. Collecting himself doesn’t come easy, and it takes a good thirty seconds of him staring at the floor, counting, before he takes one last deep breath and turns to Lake.

She looks at him with a quizzical frown. “Okay… what was that about.”

Victor breathes through his nose, drawing his arms across his chest and holding at the fabric of his denim jacket. He backs himself against the door, head resting on the glass pane. “I’m sorry… I-I freak out sometimes. Not sure if they’re panic attacks or… I don’t know. Being around a lot of people doesn’t help.”

“Right…” She stares at him another moment, brows furrowing deeper over her brown eyes. “So… why did you and Mia break up? And why hasn’t she told me anything?”

_‘Because she’s amazing and didn’t want to out me, even to her best friend…’_

He doesn’t know that for sure, but given Mia’s track record, it seems to fit. “Because… I’m not sure, but probably because I told her something and she doesn’t think it’s for her to tell…”

“What could you _possibly_ tell her that…” Something flashes in her expression, and her eyes lift to meet Victor’s in quiet understanding. “Oh, shit. Oh my god…” Victor squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the verdict. “Do you have an STD?”

And just like that, they fly open. “Wait, what?” Maybe it’s the ridiculousness of the comment within context, or the slight delirium he feels from the stress, but he laughs. “Yeah, uh, no; definitely no. I can promise you I do _not_ have an STD.”

“Okay… then, what?”

_‘Rip. Off. The Gay. Band-Aid. Just do it.’_

_‘Thank you, voice of Simon. Super helpful.’_

“Um…” he glances up at the ceiling before rushing a sigh out, “okay, well… I realised that I’m, uh… that I’m… gay.”

A beat of silence follows where Victor keeps his eyes firmly averted before finally temptation gives out and he looks to Lake. The girl blinks, head jolting in small double-take, “Um… wow. Okay then. Twist. I’m… kind of shook.”

“Yeah…”

More silence lengthens out the distance between them, and Victor bites his lip, glancing to the side as he drums his fingers along the sleeve of his jacket. Lake still appears to be processing, and it’s a few seconds later that she says, “Well, um, good for you. Fly that flag. So… how’d you figure it out?”

Victor winces. “Yeah, that’s the, uh… that’s the part I’m not so proud of.” At the prompt of her raised brow, he continues, “So… okay, I’m just gonna say it. Benji and I kissed at the Spring Fling.”

Lake gasps, shock paving way to stifled anger in flicker of a moment. “You cheated on Mia? Wait… how long have you had feelings for Benji? Wait!” she injects again with a raised finger before Victor can get two words out, “how long have you suspected you might be gay?”

 _DangerDangerDangerDangerAbortAbortAbort_ flashes with a siren in Victor’s head. He gulps, pushing the lump in his throat down as he gets out his next words with a shaky voice, “U-um… I—I thought maybe… I’ve kind of been questioning since Texas…”

Anger turns to complete disdain. “So, you’ve thought you might be gay the _entire_ time you’ve been at Creekwood? The entire time you spent with Mia, dating Mia? Are you serious right now?” Her gaze sharpens and Victor shrinks, mouth stuttering as his brain tries to form words. “So, what, she was just an _experiment_ to you? Or worse, a beard?”

“N-no, no, Lake, I swear, I would never—”

“But you did.”

“I thought I-I could like girls—”

“You _thought_. You didn’t know. And that means that you got with Mia _knowing_ you liked guys, so you weren’t entirely there from the beginning, whereas she was. She _really_ liked you, Victor, more than she’s ever liked anyone, and you screwed her over. _Big_ time. Wait, wait,” she chuckles derisively, holding a hand up, “I wanna get back to the thing with Benji. How long has _that_ been going on?”

Instinct tells him to _lie, just lie, you’re already in enough shit for this_ , but he puts it on lockdown. “I kissed him once before, when we were on a work trip, and I-I regretted it immediately and I’ll regret doing it for the rest of my life.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. How long have you had feelings for Benji? How long have you been attracted to him?”

_‘Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.’_

He sucks in a deep breath, and mutters out, “Since… since I first met him.”

“You are _fucking_ kidding me.” Victor lifts a hand to scrub across his face, praying it alleviates some of the iciness overtaking him. “What the actual hell, Victor.”

“I met Mia, though, and she’s amazing and kind and funny and _so_ beautiful, and I-I liked kissing her, and it was up until I kissed Benji that I thought ‘maybe this could work—’”

“‘Thought’, ‘maybe’ – you realise how weak these words are, right?” Victor exhales sharply through his nose, resting his hands on his hips as Lake continues. “You didn’t even have the decency to end things with her and explain before you hooked up with Benji again!”

“Look, I know I messed up, okay?” he fires back, taking a step toward her with hackles raised defensively. “I know I did. It was a dick-move and I will regret that for the rest of my life. But I genuinely thought I could like girls. I felt connected to Mia and thought I might be bisexual or pan, or something, l—”

“As a person who _is_ pansexual, let me tell you something —” she pulls up into his face, chocolate eyes narrowed dangerously before Victor even has a second to process _that_ bombshell, “once I knew, I knew. There’s no other way around it. The only questioning that came with it was denial. And I know for a fact that if I was with someone I didn’t feel attracted to, I would’ve ended it and not put them through the shit of my insecurities.”

“Really? Are you sure about that?” Victor stares her down with just as intense a fire in his dark eyes. “You seemed to take your time working through your insecurities before _you_ decided Felix was good enough for you. Dragged him through hell and back along the way.”

“That… that’s different and you know it. He and I worked it out in the end. I was honest and communicated with him where I was at the entire time, unlike you.”

“You still hurt him, still made him feel he actually fitted that _stupid_ nickname, so don’t pretend you’re any better than me.”

“You broke my best friend’s heart.”

“You treated mine like a toy.”

They glare at each other another moment, jaws clenched and teeth gritted. Simultaneously, they both heave a sigh and step back from each other, though their chests stay coiled with unreleased tension. Lake looks him over as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Guess we’re at an impasse,” she mutters into the space between them.

Victor cocks his head in a nod. “Guess we are.”

“Well, as fun and… _insightful_ as this was, I’ve got Geometry next and I need at least a protein bar to get me through that mess.” She quirks a brow at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Um… you maybe wanna move?”

“…Right.” Victor cringes as he slides to the side, opening the door before Lake gets the chance because despite the animosity, it’s ingrained into him to be chivalrous to any girl.

_‘Goddammit, Mom. Couldn’t be badass for five seconds.’_

“Mia was too good for you, anyway.” Lake says as she passes through, sparing him a raised brow over her shoulder.

Victor waits by the threshold, leaning his weight onto the open door. “I know that. Felix is _way_ too good for you.”

She pauses, and maybe Victor imagines it, because it’s gone as soon as it appears, but for a split second, there’s a melancholic look in her eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

With that, she walks off, blonde ponytail swishing behind her. Once she’s a safe distance away, Victor crumples against the door as a sigh escapes his weary body, and he reaches for his pocket. A couple of notifications light up the lockscreen of his phone, including an unseen gif sent by Benji, a text from Felix apologising ( _MR RYAN FOUND OUT. I GOT LUNCHTIME DETENTION BRO AHHH),_ plus four new messages from one Simon Spier.

Victor’s lip curls at the corner and he opens it with a swipe of his thumb.

**_ simonspiersays _ **

_First day back at school post-coming out! Good luck!! Or kind of, considering only a few people know. Still, I know how nerve-racking it can be, and can only imagine what it’ll be like seeing Mia in the hallways. I hope yours goes a lot better than mine did – had THE most embarrassing parody done by these two assholes who played me and the only other gay kid at school. Yeah… you can probably guess what that looked like. Not exactly tasteful…_

_From what I’ve heard about Mia, I’m sure she’ll be great about your sexuality, but something happens, remember you’ve got me. You’ve got Bram. You’ve got Justin (btw, he says to add him back on Snapchat). You’ve got Kim. You’ve got Ivy. You’ve all of us here rooting for you, and we’re all so proud of you. You ever need anything, we’re a message away – ‘and one plane ticket from snatching the weaves of homophobes’ – Kim. Ivy and Bram seconded that._

_And of course Felix (I need to meet this kid, he sounds amazing), and Benji, and your sister. They’re all emotionally and physically there for you, so lean on them when you need to._

_Anyway, I have assessment that desperately needs me to stop procrastinating, and you need to not be looking at your phone while at school! Have a great day!!_

_Great day…_ Victor sighs, pocketing his phone once more as a group of juniors passed him, feeling his heart cower when one of them flickered their eyes toward him and his phone.

Yep… Great day, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FULL DISCLOSURE: I have no idea how the American curriculum works so im basing this off research and what I learned in school in aus. If yall could tell me some things you learned as a sophomore/classes you took, id loveeee that!
> 
> ive been hella angsty since ive recently lost a person and nearly lost another (keep fighting, please <3), so HENCE THE ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER BEING THROUGH THE ROOF. SORRY NOT SORRY
> 
> I feel like mia would come around pretty quickly cos she selfless like that, but lake would be proper MAD on her behalf. why? she’s her best friend, and also has a slightttt crush on her that she hasn’t realised she has. am i headcanoning that lake's pan because i also headcanon her crushing on mia and that felix is enby? yes. yes i am
> 
> COMMENTS MAKE MY HEART GO *B O O M* AND MY MIND GO *W R I T E*


	6. Be My Nightingale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor gets back into working with Benji, slowly easing his way into going public with his identity. Their shifts provide a welcome reprieve from the constant anxiety at school and turmoil at home.  
> But not everything is smooth sailing... because of course it's not.  
> Is it ever?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gOD its been two weeks since i updated. SO SORRY MY LOVES
> 
> also, WE GOT SEASON 2. AHHHHHHHH *screams in gay* YAAAAAS BITCHES LETS GO LESBIANS, LETS GO  
> ive seen things from michael and the rest of the cast about this season going in a less of a disney direction and exploring some tougher themes, so i thought i'd try incorporate some of what i imagine would be discussed here. if you guys like the heavier approach, or prefer the fluff, lemme know! <3
> 
> chapter title from Nightingale by Demi Lovato
> 
> T/W: DISPLAYS OF RACISM, HOMOPHOBIA, AND EMOTIONAL ABUSE

Victor is no stranger to judgement. Even before he began to question his sexuality, he dealt with the subtle microaggressions of racism, and the occasional overtly harmful comment. Despite nearly forty percent of Texas’ population being of Latinx and Hispanic heritage, racism was rampant bitch. His mom’s supportive dancing at basketball games would often garner disgusted side-eyes and sighs, his abuela had been told on numerous occasions to speak English during shopping outings, and with Victor’s darker complexion, he noticed how some people would pointedly avoid looking at him.

Even his old friends had done little things like ‘Hey say this in Spanish!’ or even pretended to be a mariachi band on his fifteenth birthday. Like no – no, he and his culture are _not_ an attraction sight. He is not some conniving criminal selling drugs from across the border. He is an American citizen and has grown up as such. And even if he was the immigrant and not his grandparents, he did not deserve to hear ‘Go back to Mexico’. 

_“I’m not even from Mexico,”_ he wanted to say back. _“Columbian-Puerto-Rican, you racist, ignorant assholes.”_

Of course, a Latino kid saying that to a bunch of white kids would never bode well with cops, so he kept his mouth shut. It was better to pick his battles.

So, with all things considered, homophobia on top of racism is just the cherry of discrimination.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon, and Victor and Benji are working a shift together. The easy listening playlist is killing them slowly with the after-school rush, but in the middle of crafting a mocha, he catches Benji’s eyes and sees the shorter boy mime gagging. He snorts to himself, shooting back a grin before dusting the chocolate over the top. At least they’re suffering in solidarity.

Victor has always loved working at Brasstown, but in the days after coming out, he appreciates it just a little more. It’s his escape – he doesn’t have to use too much brain power, doesn’t have to have difficult conversations beyond bartering with customers about which milk they actually ordered, and Benji is there with him. It’s perfect. It’s simple, it’s easy, and most importantly, it’s distracting.

Benji’s been a constant support, seeming to know when exactly Victor needs his space and when he needs to vent. During a dry stint this afternoon, the older boy had pulled him aside and whispered, “How’s everything going at home?”

“It’s… it’s okay,” Victor breathed back, busying himself with cleaning some dishes. “My dad’s trying to talk with the landlord about getting a cheaper apartment in the complex for himself. See if he can pick up some more shifts in exchange.”

Benji’s eyebrows furrowed. “Has he spoken to you much?”

Victor, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get a word out without becoming choked, simply bit his lip and shook his head. Benji sighed softly, lifting a hand to massage his shoulder.

“It’ll get better. I promise you.”

In the present, Victor sighs, cupping a lid onto the cardboard mug, and carries it toward the counter with his most hospitable smile in place. “Charlotte? Mocha with hazelnut for Charlotte?”

An Asian girl looks up from her phone and says “Oh, that’s mine!” She steps quickly to meet him, taking it from his hands with a pearly grin. “Thanks for that; needed this after today. I’m like fully dead on my feet. Really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Victor chuckles. “Hope the rest of your day is better.”

Her eyes flick over him and she smiles. “I’m sure it will be… Thanks again.”

As Victor steps to empty the portafilter, Benji snorts behind him. He glances over his shoulder, fixing him a mildly amused look. “What?”

He just shakes his head, wiping the bench in a way that has the afternoon sun catching in the shadows of his defined arms. “You’re so oblivious, it’s adorable.”

“What?”

“She was flirting with you.”

Victor blinks. “Are you sure? Maybe she was… being friendly, I don’t know.”

Benji cocks his head in a ‘are you serious’ gesture. “She literally checked you out in plain sight. Did the whole up-and-down thing. She could not have been more obvious if she tried.”

“Oh.” A sudden smirk crosses his lips, and he glances at him out the corner of his eye. “Are you jealous?”

Benji lets out a bark of laughter at that, grinning lopsidedly at him. “Boy, you’re so gay, all I am is sorry for her. She’ll probably be back tomorrow trying to slip you her number.”

“Bet.”

“Twenty bucks.”

“Ten bucks and a free meatball art coffee.”

“You’re on, handsome.”

Victor winks at him, turning back to cleaning in attempt to hide the way his heart is screaming _‘HE CALLED ME HANDSOME ASDFGHJKL’_ as Benji tends to the till.

That’s when it happens.

He’s blasting a stream of boiling water into the portafilter when a throat clears in front of him. He glances up, smiling amicably as a woman with ombre hair looks at him. “Hi ma’am, how can I help you?”

“Hi there,” she says in a very business-like tone, hazel eyes serious and thin lips in a terse line, “would you mind not doing that?”

Victor glances down at the washcloth and portafilter in confusion before looking back up at her, chuckling awkwardly. “I-I—is there something… Would you… like me to do something else? A refill? I can come back to this later.”

She waves dismissive hand, and Victor feels like an idiot for some reason. “No, not that. I meant… whatever that was with your coworker. There are children around,” she gestures behind her to where a couple of twins sit at table, eyes glued to their iPods.

Victor’s brain ceases to function. “Oh, um…” he swallows thickly, glancing nervously to where Benji is conversing easily with customers, taking their large order with a smile. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t… I didn’t, um…”

“You can do whatever you want on your own time and your own space, I really don’t care,” she says with the cadence of a principal doling out a detention. “But this is a public space. It’s unprofessional to be conducting yourself in such a way in front of impressionable young minds. That kind of influence is not okay.”

“Ma’am, w-we were just talking,” he chuckles in a softer tone, feeling the blood pound in his ears as he senses more eyes glance in his direction.

She hums, crossing her arms with eyes narrowed. “Looked like more than just ‘talking’ to me. I don’t know how things are done where _you_ are from, but here in America, there are some things that are considered too mature for young eyes. I don’t want to have to worry about my children being exposed to this kind of thing at such a young age when all I’m trying to do is get a coffee.”

“I’m from Texas,” he grits out quietly. There are students from his school, from his _classes_ here – people he does _not_ need to be privy to the context of this conversation. Most people don't even know that he and Mia aren't together anymore.

“Well then,” she huffs, “you should _definitely_ know better.”

He feels Benji glance at him, worry heavy in his gaze, but he pushes past it, takes a deep breath and plasters on a smile. “…Sorry, ma’am. I’ll… I’ll be more mindful and respectful.”

Oh, irony – what a weird and wonderful concept.

“See that you do, or I won’t be coming back.”

With that last pointed remark, she turns on her stiletto heels, walking back to where her two children sit, completely unaware of the whole confrontation their mother had just instigated. Victor watches her leaves with a barely concealed glare.

In his quiet, reddened rage, he goes to aggressively wipe the remnants of ground coffee from the portafilter. Only to painfully realise that he did so without holding the cloth.

“Shit!” he mutters under his breath as the still boiling metal burns his fingertips and knuckles. A few patrons spare him a disproving eye at his quiet cuss. He clutches at his hand, wincing as the pain grows into a singing throb.

“Alright, you guys just take a seat and I’ll have your order to you soon.” He hears Benji walking toward him, and looks up to see him walking over, placing the iPad full of an order to the side as he gets close. “Victor, you okay?”

Breathing through his nose, Victor lifts his hand to Benji. The brunet sucks through his teeth and Victor pulls it back toward him, clutching it tight. “Sore.”

“God, I can imagine. Lemme look,” he says softly. After a note of hesitation, Victor offers his hand back to him, hissing as it stings. Benji takes it with an impossibly soft hold and turns it over, looking at it intently. If not for the fact that he feels like the skin of his hand is about to peel off, he’d be thoroughly enjoying the way Benji’s calloused but gentle hands hold his, the way his eyes rove over him like he’s the most precious thing in existence.

“Need to run that under cool water now. Let’s go to the backroom.”

Victor glances out to the sitting area. “But… customers—”

“They can wait a minute. This can’t.”

Victor can barely attempt to stutter a protest before Benji is dragging him to the back, opening the door and closing it upon Victor’s entrance. The shorter boy leads him toward the large basin, letting go of his hand to turn the faucet on and run his own under it.

After a moment, he nods. “Okay, that should be good. Not too cold. You’re taking a ten-minute break and keeping the burn under it the entire time.”

“Benji, it’s not that bad—”

“I’m assistant manager, which is step above casual employee, so you have to listen to what I say,” he reminds with a degree of authority. He lifts his brows at Victor, not lowering them, not budging a single inch.

He’s not going to win, Victor realises, and he lets out a sigh, pointedly rolling his eyes at Benji. He places his hand underneath and immediately hisses at the watery contact, reflexively drawing his hand back. “ _Ah_ , that hurts.”

“I’m sorry. It’s going to sting at first. But it’ll feel better. I promise.” Benji meets his eyes with understanding, and gently reaches for his hand once more. Victor becomes pliant in his hold and willingly allows him to guide it back to the rushing water. He sucks in another sharp breath, fingers tensing as his nerves cry, but Benji grounds him to it until eventually, the sharp ice melts into a soothing stream.

He sighs softly, shoulders sagging and eyes closing with the breath.

“Better?”

“ _Mhm_ ,” he hums softly. “Better.”

“Good. Okay, I’m gonna head back in. You stay here. I’m gonna set a timer on your phone. Do not remove your hand until it goes off. Once it does, there’s burn cream in the first aid box. Put that on and only then can you come out.”

“Really?” Victor cocks his head. “Is this really necessary? I’ll be fine after a minute, Benji. Honestly.”

“I’m dead serious.” Benji points from Victor to the water. “Do _not_ move.”

“Sir, yessir.”

A laugh escapes him as Benji sighs, rolling his eyes to ceiling, and goes to walk back in – but not before pointing two fingers between his eyes and Victor’s.

* * *

They work through until seven, going through the motions of waiting and coffee-making and microwaving shitty pastries and plastering on smiles as the easy listening eats away at their souls. As soon as the last customer leaves, Benji shuts the door, flips the availability sign, and spins around on his heel. His eyes flash with desperation as he storms back toward the counter. “Quick: turn this shit off before it makes me hate Lewis Capaldi.”

Victor laughs, disconnecting the iPad from the Bluetooth and replacing it with his own phone. He flicks through his Spotify, absently directing his voice toward Benji as the other boy begins wiping tables. “How’s Khalid?”

“Perfect. Anything but awful covers. _Please_. They make me question my own musical ability.”

Victor shakes his head and presses his thumb on ‘Talk’. “You’re amazing and you know it.”

“Amazing, huh? Do go on.”

Victor laughs, but it turns into a wince as he carelessly touches the still-tender burn to a surface. Benji’s mirthful expression immediately dissolves and he steps toward Victor with concern laced in his features. Unspeaking, he takes his hand, turning it over in quiet consideration as he sighs.

“So… what happened earlier?” he asks softly, glancing up with soulful brown eyes.

Victor doesn’t want to worry Benji – worse, he doesn’t want to feel like burden, or like the kind of person who can only complain and nothing else – but with the shorter boy looking at him so determinedly, he knows trying to sugar-coat it and lie is futile. So, he sighs, glancing to the side. “Just this woman… She saw us talking and felt like we were being ‘unprofessional’. Said some stuff that got under my skin. I just got kind of angry and wasn’t really paying attention to what I was doing.”

“Yeah, I caught bits of what she said…” Benji just shakes his head as dark cloud covers him. “Next time call me over; she had no right to do that. I don’t care what you and I were doing – _that_ was blatantly homophobic _and_ racist. That Karen doesn’t need to worry about coming back – I’ll kick her out myself the next time she does.”

“No, Benji.” Victor feels his entire being sag, and he reaches out to occupy his free hand with Benji’s. “Please… I just… I’m sick of confrontation. Really, I’m just so tired. So please… just leave it be. It’s not worth the stress.”

Benji’s eyes crackle with a fervent electricity. “Vic, I can’t let that slide. And neither should you, okay? You _have_ to stand up for yourself with this sort of thing. I mean, it’s 20-freaking-20, there are literally laws that make that bigoted crap illegal. You can’t allow—”

“It’s _different_ , okay?” Benji’s eyes widen at the sudden shift in his tone. Victor swallows convulsively, telling himself to breathe, before continuing. “Like… you’re out and gay and proud and I’m so happy that you have that, and I’m so proud that you’re able to deal with people like that without fail. Really, I am. But… you’re _white_. I’m not.” He pauses as Benji’s gaze flickers. “And that’s something I couldn’t hide even if I tried. Even I wanted to. I’m _proud_ of being Latino, I’m proud of my heritage, but I’ve been dealing with assholes like that since I understood what they were saying. And I’ve learned in sixteen years of being judged based on something that I can’t change that I’m not gonna be able to win every battle. And not every battle is worth fighting.”

Benji bites his lip, shoulders deflating from their previously riled up position.

“Was that lady being a racist and homophobic bitch? Absolutely. Did I wanna give her a piece of my mind and lesson on common decency? Like all hell. Would it have been worth it to disrupt my, yours and all the other customers’ day by picking a fight? Not really. It’s just not worth the risk sometimes.”

“God, I’m…” Benji trails off, releasing Victor’s injured hand to trail his back through his hair, gripping it tightly at the end as he squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m so stupid. I didn’t even… I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Victor reaches for him as he starts to pull away and brings him back in. He smiles, small and wiry as he watches Benji’s cheeks turn rouge. “You were trying to… defend my honour. It’s really sweet. But I’m perfectly capable of defending myself, too.”

He watches as Benji’s jaw clenches. “I just hate the fact that you’re used to dealing with it and just… You shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t _ever_ have to be endure that.”

He nods, speaking softly into the limited space between them, “I know, I know… The world’s a shitty place.”

Benji starts softly drawing patterns on the unblemished parts of Victor’s hand, and it so incomparably soothing that the taller boy’s eyes start to flutter shut. He lets out a gentle sigh, leaning back against the countertop as the patterns continue ceaselessly. He feels Benji’s eyes on him like a blanket of security.

Slowly, a smile creeps its way onto his lips, and he hums. “That feels nice.”

“Yeah?” Victor can hear the smile in his voice. “My grandma used to do this whenever I got nightmares.”

“The one in England?”

“Yeah. Was terrified of airplanes when I was a kid. She’d do it the first few nights during our visits. Used to really calm me down.”

“I can see why. I could honestly fall asleep right now.”

“Hey, hey, no, stay awake,” Benji laughs. “I am _not_ closing on my own, thank you very much.”

“I’m _crippled,_ Benji.” Victor opens his eyes, pouting his lips into the puppiest of puppy-dog eyes he can muster. “Take pity on the cripple.”

Benji smirks at him with a wide grin. “You still have a free hand.”

“It’s not my dominant hand, though. Practically useless for cleaning.”

“Sure, Troy Bolton.”

Victor gently kicking Benji’s shin as easy laughter takes over control of them. Benji comes up beside him, leaning against the countertop with him. The music switched a minute ago, paving away from the soft R&B to a soft pop song.

As it progresses, he snorts and glances at Victor from the corner of his eye. “What did I say about awful covers?”

“This one’s good, what’re you talking about?”

“If it’s not the Tracy Chapman version, I don’t wanna hear it.”

Victor’s shoulders shake as he chuckles, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he meets Benji’s steady gaze. Comfortable silence falls over them as they hold each other’s fond stare. The warm-hued makes Benji’s brown hair shine golden, and Victor is completely unable to stop himself brushing the one stubborn lock back into place. His hand lingers, thumb gently caressing his cheek, and Benji looks like he’s about to completely melt under the touch.

“I really want to kiss you.”

Victor knows why he softly voices the thought rather than acting on it immediately, and God, if it doesn’t make his heart flutter all the more for him. While they agreed to it, it was by Victor’s suggestion that they ease their way into the relationship. Coming out was still this terrifying monster that Victor wasn’t entirely ready to conquer, nor was he fully prepared for the public brunt of stepping out of a straight relationship and into a gay one. He unequivocally knew that Benji was the one for him – at this point, the other boy owned his entire heart, but he didn’t need to know that just yet – but letting the world know that?

That was entirely different story.

But it’s after-hours, it’s nearly dark out, and it’s just them. If Victor tries hard enough, he can imagine that they are the only two people in the world.

So he smiles and says, “Then kiss me.”

Benji tastes of latte and choc-mint, and Victor remembers him sharing part of his flavoured protein bar with him earlier. He vaguely wonders if he tastes of choc-mint too, but then Benji angles his head toward him and he’s suddenly lost to the kiss. Every part of him feels electrified, and moves his hand to the back of Benji’s hand, tugging at the tuffs gently. He meets Benji’s soft moan of response with passion, and elicits one of his own when the brunet shifts a hand to grip at his shirt and apron and tugs Victor’s bottom lip between his teeth.

 _‘Is this what it was supposed to feel like kissing Mia?’_ He smiles against Benji’s lips. _‘Is this what straight guys are always raving about?’_

Benji chuckles, quiet and deep, and it sends a magnetic thrill down past Victor’s stomach. “What’re you smiling about?”

Victor opens his eyes a fraction to see them reflected back in Benji’s hooded ones. He blinks lackadaisically, moving his hand back around to cup his jaw. “This. You. How lucky I am,” comes in a simple and soft response.

“Pretty sure you’ve got it flipped.” Benji looks at him with the café lights glittering like stars in his eyes. “I’m really glad you’re not straight.”

A breathy laugh leaves Victor’s lips before he occupies them with Benji’s again in a simple and chaste gesture, easing out of it with gradually smaller pecks. It’s addictive, kissing Benji, and while Victor is scared shitless about ever even trying drugs, he’s pretty sure this is what ecstasy must feel like. It’s mesmerising, enthralling, elevating.

It’s a personal everything.

He chuckles, “Glad you’re not straight either.”

The light chuckle turns to a belly laugh as Benji pushes a hand into his face. “Shut up.”

They eventually shift back into closing, incorporating random dancing and lip-syncing as they move tables and stack chairs. Victor gingerly favours his hand, rolling his eyes when he catches Benji looking over in concern – “I told you, it’s fine!” They indulge in sparse kisses as they go through the motions, blinded by bliss and the euphoria surrounding their still-fresh relationship, uncaring of what they’re labelling it yet. It’s theirs, it’s for them alone, and they’re perfectly happy in taking their time.

Victor grins as Benji dissolves into ‘rump-shaking’, taking out his phone to film it quietly.

Entirely unaware of the fact that it’s not the only camera on them in that moment.

* * *

Stepping over the threshold of his apartment door, the aching smile that had been on Victor’s lips since he left Brasstown quickly dissipates on noting the scene before him.

His mother and father are spatting at each other from across the living room. Isabel is dissolving into Spanglish – which is never a great indication of a calm temperament – and Armando is just shaking his head, white-knuckled hands held to his hips as he ignores his wife’s exaggerated gestures.

In the corridor, Pilar is trying and failing to drag Adrian back into his room. His younger brother is gently crying, bottom lip caught between his teeth and trembling. His younger sister meets his eye and Victor feels her hopeless desperation claw in his chest like a tiger encaged. When he looks to Adrian again and sees the confused hurt, something within him snaps.

Well… seems they’re no longer above keeping the fight from Adrian. _“He’s little, not dumb!”_ rings in Victor’s head, and a flash of guilt pulses through him.

‘I’ll sort this out,’ he mouths to Pilar, waiting till she nods in thanks before gritting his teeth and storming into the kitchen. His shoulders are squared as he reaches his squabbling mom and dad. “Are you serious?”

His parents abruptly halt their argument, turning to face him with mixed emotions on their respective faces. His mom blinks. “Victor, I—”

“You both realise Adrian has been listening in, right?” He’s furious, absolutely livid, the image of his cowering little brother ingrained in his mind like a flashing billboard. “Do you even care?”

Isabel turns to him with an affronted expression. “Victor, don’t even go there. You know very well that I do.”

“Yeah? You have a funny way of showing it.”

Armando turns to face him. “Don’t speak to your mother that way—”

“You don’t get to lecture me on how to speak when you haven’t spoken to me in nearly _two weeks_.” Victor glares at his father. “And don’t make this about me, alright? This is about you two and your nonstop fighting. You are _adults_ – start acting like it. Pilar and I shouldn’t be the ones having to shelter and protect Adrian.”

“Right, well, while we’re on the topic of that, I don’t want you near Adrian. Got it? I don’t want a _maldito maricón_ messing with his—"

“Don’t you _dare_ speak to him that way.” Isabel turns to her husband, malice laced into her voice.

“So you’re completely okay with his decision? Is that what you’re saying?”

_‘Yes. She is. She told me herself. So back off.’_

Victor glances to his mother, chest puffed and chin high as he waits for her fierce rebuttal. His sturdy confidence rapidly crumbles as he watches her pinch the bridge of her nose. “I’m saying that I support him. I don’t fully understand it, but he is my son and I will love him through anything. It was unexpected, so it’s… taking some time to… adjust to. But I’m _trying_ , which is more than you can say.”

She didn’t necessarily say anything bad but… it still hurts, for some reason.

“What do you think I’ve been doing the last week, Isabel? I’ve been trying to grapple with this… new Victor and the ideals that I was raised with. If I had decided to pull this kind of crap with my parents, I’d have been sent immediately to a church, if I wasn’t first tossed out onto the street. And you know what? They’d have been right to do so, and I’d have respected them and been grateful for it later on.”

 _‘Breathe in… breathe out. Breathe in… breathe out. Breathe in… breathe out. Breathe in… breathe out.’_ The voice instructing him sounds an awful lot like Benji.

“Well, we know how your parents can _do no wrong_. Your mother is just a saint, isn’t she,” Isabel hisses back.

“Leave my mother out of this.”

“Leave my _son_ out of this.”

“He’s my son too!”

“You think he feels that way when you call him those hideous names?!”

_‘Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.’_

“I only want what’s best for him – if he chooses this lifestyle, he will be setting himself up for a life of misery and Godlessness! He needs to change it for himself and for the family.”

“Do not come preaching to me about family values and God. You can hardly call yourself a Christian with this completely immoral behaviour.”

“I’m more Christian than you could ever pretend to be.’

_“Hijo de puta!”_

_‘Breathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathe.’_

Victor feels his chest start to ache and his lungs go into overtime. He came into dispel an argument, and instead heightened it and made it revolve around him. Freakin’ awesome. He absolutely and fully admonishes it.

Not sparing another word toward them, he turns on his heel and storms down the hallway. His parents don’t even call after him. Figures.

It seems like Pilar managed to get Adrian into his room, thank God. His shaky hand turns the knob quietly, and he pushes it open so see his siblings curled on the bed; Adrian caged between Pilar’s legs and a book held at the front of them by his sister’s grasp. Victor notices how she speaks in a carefully modulated tone, contrasting to the shaking of her hands.

They don’t deserve this. None of them do.

“Hey guys,” Victor calls softly, cringing as both of them flinch slightly at his voice before relaxing once more.

“Hey Vic,” Pilar replies. Her lips quirk up at the corner.

Adrian doesn’t say a single word – all he does is prompt Pilar to move over the Olaf bedcovers and pats the spot freed up beside him. Victor smiles, unhesitant, and steps into the room. He’s careful to shut the door close behind him.

“What’re we reading?” he asks as he scoots across the bouncy bed.

“‘The Magic Faraway Tree’,” Adrian murmurs, nestling back into his sister’s chest. “I read out loud for a bit before, but Pilar’s doing it now.”

Victor smiles, diverting it up to his sister as she shrugs. She’s all tough on the outside, but within, she’s as soft as a kitten. He shifts so he’s right beside her. “Want me to take over?”

Her tired dark eyes flash up toward him and she nods, wordlessly handing the weathered book over to him. He’s mindful of his still tender burn as he cradles the book. With a jut of his head, he gestures to her, and she quickly gets the message, releasing a sigh as she leans her head onto his shoulder. Victor rests his atop hers.

“Which part?”

“Middle of the page. Just there.”

“Okay…” He straightens down the page with his thumb as he props the book against his knee. It frees up his inside hand to hold Adrian’s, and he gives it a gentle squeeze before he starts. ““Well, we must be jolly old-fashioned then,’ said Bessie. ‘Because we not only believe in the Faraway Tree and love our funny friends there, but go to see them too – and we visit the lands at the top of the tree as well!””

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cried hella tears writing that last bit... protect the salazar kids at all cost
> 
> if there's anything i've written here that is offensive, ignorant, or misinformed, please inform me right away. as a white English-speaking person in an English-speaking country, i understand i will never fully comprehend what it is to be judged by the colour of my skin, but i always strive to learn and KEEP learning so i can better support those who do. i write to explore, understand, and discuss social issues, so reader commentary is invaluable in regards to things like this. accurate and diverse representation is so so important - it always has been and it always will be. ❤️
> 
> what're you guys most excited for about s2?   
> i rlly want some quality venji development (uh duh), more andrew (I LOVE MASON GOODING MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF OKAY), some more expansion on LGBTQ rep (bi/pan and gender identity being explored would be awesome), and a deeper look into what its gonna be like for vic as an out queer POC (he's gonna need hugs. i can feel it already 🥺)
> 
> also can we protect george sear cos apparently the angel has been receiving hate on a twitter and I will NOT stand for slander toward our british baby boy, no sIR!
> 
> love you all!! <3 hope you enjoyed the chapter


	7. Don't Feel Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life continues as normal in Creekwood, unknowing of Victor's plight. He can take it, he tells himself. It's nothing new, nothing he can't handle.  
> He can take a hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.... yall know how i freaked out about not having posted in two weeks....  
> can we ignore the fact that its been two months since the last update???? just like... sweep it under... the rug... there we go.
> 
> anyway, THE CAST HAVE THEIR SCRIPTS AND THEYRE ALL CRYING AND IM CRYING AHH  
> chapter title from Unsteady by X Ambassadors
> 
> T/W: DISPLAYS OF HOMOPHOBIA AND EMOTIONAL ABUSE

Locker-room talk sucks. Objectively. At least it does in Victor’s opinion.

As he goes about pulling his basketball jersey on, trying to seem at least mildly interested in the conversation currently led by Kieran and Teddy, he wishes for nothing more than to sneak off somewhere and just hide until actual training starts. Maybe a broom closet or something. That’d be some hella-strong symbolism.

“Man, I’m telling you, that’s what happened!”

“Nah, no way.”

“For real!” Teddy says, grin plastered on his face as he pulls his shorts on. “We went back to hers after the party, _while her parents were still awake,_ and did it in her bedroom.”

“Dude.”

“Twice.”

“Dude!” There’s laughing behind Victor, mixed in with a small applause and few scattered whoops. “You’re a legend. A god. Let me bow down real quick.”

“Damn fuckin’ straight, so call me ‘gay’ again and I’ll destroy your ass.”

“Now _that’s_ gay,” Kieran cackles. The two audibly scuffle and pull each other into chokeholds. Victor manages a small, quarter-hearted chuckle before clenching his jaw and focusing resolutely on this one shoelace he’s been tying for over a minute. It’s fine. It really is. He’s been hearing that kind of talk since first grade, and he will continue to hear it well beyond his schooling years. He tells himself that they don’t mean anything by it, they’re not really registering what they’re saying. It’s all in good humour. No harm by it.

He definitely doesn’t focus on the projected image of their faces when they realise that _he,_ one of their teammates, one of the guys they act so freely around, falls under that term they use derogatively.

“Yo, why’re you still saying that?”

The conversation dissipates as Victor’s eyes shoot up, zeroing in on the owner of the voice as they stand by their locker, arms crossed and face screwed up.

Kieran blinks, exchanging a glance with Teddy before turning back. “What? Gay?”

“Yeah. In the negative way. You guys sound like you’re twelve. Honestly,” Andrew groans with a roll of his eyes. Victor tries not to glance at him as he turns back, slinging a sweat towel over his shoulder and busying himself with his locker. From there out, the conversation becomes far quieter and consists of far less slurs.

Victor keeps stealing glances at Andrew, who, as it turns out, is undoubtedly avoiding his gaze with active intent.

As the boys start filing out of the room a few minutes later, he waits by his locker, aimlessly scrolling through his phone as he patiently waits. Pretty soon, it’s just a handful of people left, and Victor feels the courage swelling in his chest urge him to hiss, “Yo,” in Andrew’s direction. When the taller boy finally, begrudgingly, meets his eye, he juts his head to the side and says, “Talk for a sec?”

Andrew deliberates it a moment, gaze turning out to the door, before he releases a sigh and murmurs, “Sure. Whatever.”

They wait a few more moments, Victor all wringing hands and Andrew drawn-out sighs.

As the last few stragglers leave, Andrew crosses his arms and leans against his locker. “This better be quick, Salazar. Coach’ll kill us if we’re too late.”

“Yeah, no, I know,” Victor rushes out, stepping toward him with equal guard about him. “I just… I guess… thanks for that? Earlier? You didn’t have to, and—”

“Just… don’t mention it. For real,” Andrew bites, not meeting Victor’s gaze. “Knowing what I know, it, well, it’d be a pretty shitty thing to let them keep saying it when it was clearly affecting you. Your poker face sucks, by the way. I don’t know how you’re still closeted.”

“That’s… a bit off-brand for you,” Victor notes with a quirk of his brows. “I mean, it’s good, don’t get me wrong. Just… unexpected.”

He scoffs, shaking his head, but there’s the slightest of upward movement at the corner of his mouth. “Trying to be better. Had a few people call me out on being a… Lonestone said ‘cliché jock from a 90s movie’, and there was… ‘complete and utter jerk’, yep. That was Mia.”

Ah. The elephant in the room and in every single training session since… forever.

The air becomes heavy with unspoken differences and issues of mistrust, and the two boys divert their attention to puddles from spilled water bottles and decade-old chewing gum plastered to the ceiling, somehow. Victor scratches at a mole as his thoughts run around the track of mind, stuck in a perpetual loop of excuses and defensive remarks. In his periphery, he catches Andrew grinding his teeth, a darkness hovering over his eyes. Hoarding his pride is only going to get him so far, especially with this guy – he knows that; he’s just sort of sick of this consistent demand from God or the universe or whoever pulls the strings of his existence to be the one who has to be the bigger person. It’s honestly exhausting.

Nevertheless, he exhales a sigh through his nose and determinedly looks Andrew directly in the eyes. “How is she, by the way? I haven’t really seen her the past few weeks. I think she’s avoiding me.”

Andrew deadpans him then. “Can you seriously blame her?”

“No… No, of course not. I just…” he trails off, reaching to drag a hand back through his already sweaty hair. Summer is going to be relentless. “I meant what I said the night of the Spring Fling. I do care about her— _love_ her—and I’ve been worrying about her. It wasn’t just the stuff with me that night, but there’s also a bit of family things going on that—”

“The thing with Veronica and the baby?” The other boy lifts his brows. “Yeah, man, she told me about that. That shit’s messed up.”

“Oath… It’s a lot for her to deal with at once.”

“I’ve known Mia a lot longer than you have. Like, a _lot._ ” That is definitely pride in Andrew’s voice. Victor finds he really doesn’t mind; in fact, he realises it with a small smile. “Mia’s tough. This is hard for her right now, but she’ll be okay. She’s already making an effort to try and be a bit more… open with Veronica. The baby thing I think is gonna be the hardest, but that’s just because it’s something unknown. It’s been her and her dad for years, and Mia’s a bit wary of change. But I don’t know… She knows to call or text me, Lake, Jenny, few others… She’s got her support when she needs it, is what I’m saying.”

Something settles within Victor’s chest at his words, simultaneously relieved and feeling amiss, and he openly smiles. “I’m glad to hear that. Really, that was really stressing me out there for a minute. Thanks…”

“Yeah, no problem.” A beat passes. “Anyway, we should get going.”

There’s this weird ellipsis hanging in the air that needs filling, so he adds after a moment, all hurried and slightly awkward, “By the way, for what it’s worth, I think you and Mia… It’d be pretty great. Certainly better than me.”

“God, I hope so,” he scoffs with a face now far more tranquil and pleased.

Victor’s brows scrunch as he cocks his head. “Are we… Are we cool?”

“Woah, just chill out. This little talk doesn’t mean we’re suddenly bros, or whatever,” Andrew says, but there’s a mirthful twinkle in his eyes.

They share a brief laugh as they walk out toward the sound of Coach Ford’s zealous instructions and the squeak of sneakers on polished hardboard floors.

“Hey, I know I’m saying thanks a lot, but, well, thanks for being cool with the whole, you know… gay thing,” Victor admits as they hang back before entering the gym, the word still foreign and uncertain in his mouth.

“Dude, I know I can be an asshole, but I’m not _that_ much of an asshole. Little faith, come on.”

Victor rolls his eyes, but it is all in good jest as they run out onto the court, ready to throw themselves into drills and suicides with a freshened outlook on each other. Their spirits are so revitalised that neither one took the moment to realise their locker room discussion had fallen on another set of ears.

* * *

**_MESSAGES: Now_ **

**_Pilar_ **

_Are u on your way home ?_

Victor swindles out his phone as it vibrates from his backpack, body still sticky with sweat from training. He scrubs a hand down his face as he reads Pilar’s text. Flickering his eyes up sporadically as he walks, he types out his reply.

_Yeah, about to walk into the building. Everything okay?_

Her immediate response has his brows knitting warily.

_Go hang with felix or smth. Seriously. It’s a mess here_

_How you mean_

_Dad did something stupid_

At the mention of their father, Victor sucks in a sharp breath and feels his hackles rise.

_What happened_

_Please vic_

_Pilar, tell me what happened_

_no, u don’t wanna know. Just don’t come home._

_Too late. I’m coming in right now_

He pockets his phone roughly and barges up the stairs, breath already hastening presumptuously. Of course he wants to know, and of course he is going to make it his business to find out. Pilar is being way too cryptic over text, way too subdued—too un-Pilar. Worry etches at his eyebrows and burrows deep into his skin, making it crawl as he takes the steps up the apartment two at a time. Just because living under the same roof as his father recently has been a primary source of sleepless nights and general heightened emotional tumult does not mean he won’t make a stand when needed.

He swears as he marches toward the apartment that if he has done something to his baby sister, he will—

The door swings open and out jumps Pilar, eyes frantic and wide as they scour around. Then, they lock onto Victor and become electric with purpose. “Vic, what’re you doing here?!”

“Are you okay?” He ignores her question as he rakes his eyes over her, checking for any sign of injury or harm.

He blinks. That’s absurd, right? A completely paranoid assumption. The notion jolts Victor in place and he feels askance at his own thought process. He and his father may be in the midst of a terse and fragile interval in their relationship, but he would _never_ hurt his family. He holds too much love and respect for them.

 _‘He didn’t hesitate to beat up his boss.’_ He swallows the thought down thickly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says with a sniffle. And that’s when he notices; her eyes are rimmed red.

And that is the only colour Victor sees as he throws open the door and advances straight to the source of the raised voices, ignoring Pilar’s pleading as she chases after him.

He doesn’t wait to hear the conversation as he rounds into the kitchen, rounds on his squabbling parents and bites out, “What the hell happened now? Why is Pilar crying?”

His mother turns from beside the table; her eyes are bloodshot too, frown-lines prominent as a trembling scowl melts from her face. “ _Mijo_.” She rubs her eyes. “There’s ten dollars on the bench. Take your sister out for some coffee or hot chocolate, okay? Adrian’s at a playdate.”

He shakes his head. “Not until I find out what made Pilar so upset that she warned me not to come home.” His eyes dart to his father, who feels all too much like a dormant volcano, bubbling just below the surface. “What happened.”

Then, his father does something unexpected. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes screw shut. “Victor,” he starts, his voice softer than it has been in nearly a month, “I just want to understand what has brought on all this stuff with you. All this… _gay_ stuff.” The word is said as though it’s synonymous with ‘satanic’. “This isn’t you, _flaco._ I only want to help you.”

Victor edges back, his father’s softened and caring tone caring this underlying message that screams danger. And that’s when his eyes flicker down and catch the opened pamphlet on the table, and the tepid room transfigures into an arctic blizzard.

He falls back, steadying himself on the fridge handle with shaking limbs. No, no, no, no. No, they wouldn’t.

“Conversion therapy?” His voice is so infuriatingly small as he looks between his parents.

The pre-existing anxiety of being a queer kid in a religious household had bled into Victor’s in-depth research, even before he reached a realisation of just how he identified. Further direct messaging with Simon and the New York crew, particularly Justin, had opened his eyes to more dark possibilities and dangers that faced someone like him.

He’d known something like conversion therapy or pastor counselling was a very real scenario he could find himself in. He’d just always thought that maybe his parents’ love would outweigh any innate desire they held to change him to suit their religious interests.

He never really thought the gay kid with a tragic backstory would be him.

Hands cup around both his elbows, and he feels Pilar hold him to her soft, shorter frame as he loses all other senses. “ _Papi. Papi_ , please don’t.”

“ _Mija,_ just… let me explain it to him.” His father smiles in something that is supposed to be understanding, but it couldn’t be. He could never understand the way Victor’s entire body feels as though it is two seconds away from disintegrating. “I know there’s a lot of stuff in the media said about therapy, but I promise it’s not as bad as they make it out to be. I had a talk on the phone with Pastor Edward there—very friendly man—and he said they have a summer program that a lot of kids your age go to…”

The words fade out, washing over Victor’s head like a poisonous fog, and his stomach roils.

Bathroom. He needs the bathroom.

Except he knows he’s not going to make it to the bathroom.

His eyes flit to the side. The kitchen sink. It will have to do.

He shucks himself out of Pilar’s vice-like grip and throws his body across the kitchen floor, collapsing at the basin just as the bile and water of his weary basketball body comes rushing out.

“Victor!” He coughs and hacks into the sink, body shaking, trembling, as Pilar bolsters up beside him and rubs at his back.

Faintly, he hears his mother’s gasp. “Look what you’ve done, Armando! Look at what you’ve done!”

“This is for his own good!” His father’s voice pounds against his skull. “I’m not going to be passive anymore and let him throw away his life like this.”

“This is not the answer! I’ve been reading up on those places, you know. And you know what? They are exactly what the media says! They’re cults! You see how our son is right now? You take him to a horrible place like that, he will only come back broken, not ‘fixed’!”

“I’ve already talked to my parents.”

“Armando!”

Victor feels tears spring and prickle at his eyes. ‘Abuela y Abuelo _? No, no, they can’t know.’_ He doesn’t want to picture his grandmother’s broken expression, his grandfather’s lividity, but it swims across his mind like an encircling shark.

“They called me to say they’re still appalled at Victor’s outburst at his party. I couldn’t lie to them! Pa is horrified, Ma started crying. It took everything in me to convince them they didn’t need to fly up and intercept the problem themselves.”

So, Victor’s a problem now. Got it.

“And this was the trade-off? Subjecting their _neito_ to this cruel and outdated torture?”

“Stop blowing this out of proportion, Isabel! It’s talk like this that is the exact reason Victor is so scared right now!”

“Because it’s the truth and he _knows_ it!”

“Come on, Vic,” Pilar coaxes in his ear, gentle, assuring, as she passes him a paper towel to wipe the spittle and vomit around his mouth. “Let’s go get you properly cleaned up. Do you think Felix will be home?”

Honestly, he has no idea. He’s never been inside Felix’s apartment, so he really hasn’t the nearest clue to how much of his time he spends there. There’s a good chance he’s hanging out with Lake right now.

But the alternative to investigating is staying here, and Victor may actually fall apart if he does that.

So, he lets himself be brought away from the edge of the sink, lets her nudge his head into the crook of her shoulder, lets her arms come around his trembling form as she leads him toward the hallway.

“Where are you two going?!”

“Out!” Pilar bites back over her shoulder, tone wavering. “Away from you two! We don’t need to put up with your constant bullshit!”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout at you two, I just—”

“Yes, thank you,” their mother sighs. “Be safe. Be back before dinner.”

“Whatever. Let’s go, Vic.”

Not two seconds after the door closes upon their exit, the shouting resumes. The two teenage siblings huddle closer together as they slowly trudge down the stairs and into their escape.

* * *

So, as it turns out, Felix hadn’t been home. Victor had to confiscate Pilar’s phone when the fourteen-year-old immediately went to type a barrage of accusatory texts to him as a reaction. Felix has a life outside of being his best friend. He shouldn’t be expected to drop everything and come running every time Victor has a minor crisis. He doesn’t have to.

Of course, Pilar’s next question was, “Where else do you wanna go?”

Which is precisely what finds them in the unisex bathroom of Brasstown, Pilar standing to the side as Victor washes his face in the basin and gargles tap water in his sour mouth. He scrubs religiously (ha) at every speck, every minute detail that feels dirty. The stale, bitter aftertaste of vomit lingers in his mouth and senses, and his eyes flicker toward the soup. No; he’s just going to have to deal with it.

When he’s done, a repentant sigh leaves him as he haunches over the running water, watching it with tired eyes as it swirls down the drain. He can feel Pilar shifting in the background behind her, but he doesn’t pay any mind.

 _‘I never should have come out.’_ Ever since he has, it’s just more of the same battles every single day; between his parents, between this invisible yet unconquerable blockade, between his own sense of self. This innate, integral fear whenever he’s at school, hanging out with the basketball guys, being around his classmates, that someone is going to just see straight through his façade. People have started asking about why he and Mia aren’t seen together anymore, have they broken up, _what happened_. And shit—he doesn’t know how to respond:

_“We broke up.” “Why?”_

_“We’re just on a break from each other.” “Why?”_

_“It’s personal.”_ Which in turn starts the circulation of rumours.

And then there are his and Benji’s rendezvouses. The subtle glances they steal at each other, the moments between classes in empty classrooms and supply closets (no, the irony is not lost on either of them), every little interval between normalcy where they can just be themselves. Benji has brought up coming out a couple of times—never in a confrontational or accusatory manner, always sweet and patient—but every instance, Victor says “not yet”. It’s the quiet underlying disappointment laced into the understanding that makes his guilt the worst.

A cynical, masochistic part of him wonders if ‘well, half the band aid is off now, might as well just take the rest’. He has already dealt with breaking a good friend’s heart and destroying his family; what else is there that could possibly tear the wound worse than those?

He recalls a message from Simon earlier in the week:

**_Coming out on your own terms is so important, Vic. I didn’t get that, as a kid from a progressive, supportive family and without any extreme social status, and it still messed me up. Please, make sure, if you can, that your coming-out is YOURS. Only do so when you’re absolutely ready, when you feel most comfortable. Hold on, Bram wants to add something – hey vic <3 si is completely right. only come out when you know you are going to have someone to lean on for support, and when the words are perpetually sitting on the tip of your tongue, bursting to come out. don’t pressure yourself into it, please._ **

****

He wants to come out, but he doesn’t want to come out. He wants to be proud of who he is, but he’s terrified of ostracization. He wants to hold Benji’s hand in the hallways, kiss him breathlessly before classes, but he doesn’t want that pure, untouched part of his life tainted by judgement. Victor groans as his head falls onto his folded arms.

So he is trapped in a listless limbo of teetering secrecy.

“You okay, Victor?”

He swallows, taking a moment to regather his thoughts, before standing upright and facing his sister. “I… don’t know. I really don’t know. I just… it’s numb right now.”

He almost laughs at his own blatant lie.

Pilar doesn’t seem to buy it either. Nevertheless, she lightly huffs and manages a smile. “Wanna get something to drink? You might feel better.”

Stomaching anything, especially dense, sugary and milky liquid, seems like the worst thing he could do right now, but his stomach is aching, his throat is sore, and Pilar is pulling out her own money to pay for it, so…

“Yeah, sure.”

Pilar’s stabilising hand leaves his back as they step into the vastness of the warm-hued café. Dusk has descended upon them in the time they took in the bathroom. The last of the patrons are hurriedly guzzling the last of their coffees and ordering savoury pastries to go. Victor can’t decide whether the quiet is a good or bad thing.

“They’re closing soon,” he murmurs to his sister. “We probably need to be quick.”

She nods. “We’ll grab the drinks then go find somewhere that isn’t too nasty to sit.” Her eyes narrow and she tilts her chin, speaking in a softer tone, “I can use your employee discount if you’re here, right? I really don’t feel like paying thirteen-dollars-ninety for an iced coffee and a knockoff frappacino.”

“For the record, our frappacinos are miles better.”

“I know they are. Obviously. Y’all go extra hard on the inner drizzle. They’re still a knockoff, though.”

“Fair.” He glances around at the counter, where a blonde girl scrubs at the particular spot on the bench. “Eloise is pretty chill, so shouldn’t have an issue. Sarah’s a whole ‘nother story.”

As they approach the counter, however, Eloise huffs in shrill frustration and paces to the backroom, muttering under her breath about ‘goddamn fucking gremlin kids’ and ‘gonna need the disinfectant’. Pilar raises a brow at Victor; he just shrugs.

They continue to walk up irregardless, but suddenly, the light shifts scantily, and Victor pulls up short at the very millisecond his heart does, the world suddenly pulled into iridescent lighting. “Benji.”

“Victor, hey…” A rosy tinge brushes across Benji’s cheeks as his eyes slide toward his sister, and Victor has every instinctual urge to kiss him until his whole, beautiful face is of that lovely shade.

Pilar buzzes perceptibly beside him as the other boy halts in tandem. Right. The sister is still here. The rest of the café is still here. They’re in public. Vaulting over the counter to praise his… kinda-sorta-maybe-hopefully-boyfriend in the most biblical way possible is _definitely_ against codes of social propriety. And after his recent existential crisis, that reality feels all the more jarringly real.

His shoulders bunch slightly. “I… thought you weren’t working today.”

Benji scratches at the back of his neck in a wince. “Yeah, it was last-minute sort of thing. Couldn’t be at the house tonight… Renovations.”

Victor’s brows knit over his eyes. The word ‘renovations’ has never been said with such palpable discomfort.

There are dark circles under Benji’s beautiful hazel-brown eyes, hazel-brown eyes that shine without their usual sparkle. His posture looks deflated… everything about him _feels_ deflated. In all Benji’s constant check-ups and worried glances over the past few tumultuous weeks, Victor hasn’t thought to wonder about Benji’s own mental state. He’s just gone through a breakup—granted, he was the one to initiate the breakup, but that was a previously stabilised fragment of his life that had been there for over a year just gone, like that. Benji has probably been harbouring feelings about it all.

How long has this been happening? Since the breakup? Nearly a month ago?

How did Victor miss it?

Yet another thing he screwed up.

He locks eyes with the shorter boy, trying to convey one simple message through his furrowed brows and soft frown: _are you okay?_

Benji diverts from it, inhaling deeply before mustering a half-hearted smile. “Um, anyway, what can I get for you guys?”

“I was gonna buy me and Victor some pick-me-up drinks, but I think I found him a better pick-me-up, so just one caramel frappacino, thanks.”

 _‘Pilar…’_ Victor shoots her a warning glance, face heating as he feels Benji’s gaze like a heavy, prospecting cloak on him. His sister remains resolute despite his incessant pointedness. Her lashes flutter as a smile plays at her lips—the _I-know-something’s-up-so-I’m commandeering-the-conversation_ smile—and Victor wants to tackle her into the floor. Into, through and beyond. To the earth’s core.

It doesn’t lessen as Benji starts to cautiously put through the order through. “One caramel frappacino, and nothing else?”

 _‘Pilar.’_ Victor’s eye starts twitching.

“Nope!” The smile increases as she bounces on the balls of her feet. “By the way, you off soon?”

“Uh, yeah. Assuming no other customers come in, you guys are the last. We’ll close in about ten.”

The smile flourishes into a grin. “Love that! Vic and I will just wait till you’re done then.”

 _‘Pilar!’_ Victor makes a vow to absolutely throttle his sister later, face burning like a furnace as he turns sheepishly to Benji. “Only if you want.”

Benji’s gaze flickers uncertainly. “You don’t have anywhere to be?”

He blinks. It’s the mutual wariness of this anomaly of a situation that does it for Victor. A light shake of his head as he smiles, hoping the soft fervency of his conviction connects with Benji. “No. I want to be here.”

Benji’s white grin catches the glow of the flickering orbs of light. “Okay. Alright, give me ten minutes to just wrap things up here… _and_ get your drink, of course,” he adds, pointing to Pilar with a snap of his fingers.

“Halve that time and I’ll double my tip.”

Benji barks a short laugh. “I’ll get right on it, then.”

He flashes Victor one last quick smile before shuffling back over to the coffee machine. Victor’s eyes train him, hesitant and wary, as the older boy moves through the normally languid paces with a stiffness, a weird unfamiliarity. His perfectly ruffled hair falls across his eyes and sways in golden strands. He doesn’t make an attempt to push them back.

Victor’s brow tenses.

There’s a light bump on his side. Bracing his patience with a deep breath, he turns to face the owner of the elbow just dug into him. Pilar wears an all-too satisfied smirk on her face, lighting up her dark eyes in barely concealed pride. Good lord.

“What’s with the face?”

He deadpans her. “You know what’s with the face.”

“I really don’t, so…” she draws out a hiss. When Victor shakes his head, disappointedly unsurprised, she lets out a sigh, grabbing his bicep to drag him away from the counter. “Look, if anyone’s gonna understand what’s going on right now, it’s Benji, right?”

There she goes again, being so intrusively presumptuous that she doesn’t pause to consider the consequences of her actions. She hasn’t an idea of Benji’s homelife, hasn’t an idea of his past, of whatever lasting pain it has caused. She simply doesn’t know Benji. “What, because we’re both gay means we share the exact same experiences?”

She pauses. “Well… no, but, I mean, it’s gotta help, right?”

“Pilar, that’s not the—”

“Regardless, he’s your boyfriend. Sort-of boyfriend. You’re a thing.”

“Hey, say that a little louder, I think some people loitering outside didn’t hear you.”

“Stop being paranoid. _Anyway,_ if you’ll let me finish…” She fixes him a look that screams ‘I dare you to cut me off again’. Tired, Victor keeps his mouth shut. “Okay, so as I was trying to say, you’re still new to this boyfriend thing. I’m not, so let me enlighten you: the two of you got each other’s back. That’s what happens when you’re a couple—you’re there for each other, and you can trust to have someone there for you. That’s what happened with Eric and me.” She blinks. “Okay, shitty example, but it stands. Just… talk to him. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Victor considers her for a moment, deliberating her words, before turning to where Benji drizzles caramel into a plastic cup. Standing directly under one of the main lights, his features are drawn into contrast; the highness of his cheekbones, the slant of his nose, the curve of his jaw. All the shadows in clarity. Including the dark rings framing his vapid eyes.

Leaving Pilar’s spiel circumvented, he shifts to one of all the empty booths and takes a seat for himself, eyes cast down as he lowers his head onto the table and lets the easy-listening numb him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we got a lil lv group chat and the other members and i were talking about our respective fics, and about the plot and angst and i was just there like 'huh... my dumbass completely forgot about plot'. sO, this is me trying to gain some semblance of plot... ergo, angst. yeah.... sorry kids... its gonna go downhill before it goes up
> 
> i am so so sorry this update took so long-ive had a lot of stuff happening irl, including my acting career taking a very sudden and unexpected climb so ksjsksksjdjjksdjdsks *screaming*  
> keep an eye out for 'cinphoney', sept 23, 2021. indie cinema near you. wink wonk ;))
> 
> as always, please pLEASE review, comment, kudos, sub, all of the above-- it makes my heart soar <3


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